The Broken Road
by jerzeegurl
Summary: Pairing: Jimmy Darmody/OFC Other Characters: Richard Harrow, Angela Darmody, Gillian Darmody, Tommy Darmody, Mickey Doyle Set in autumn, 1922. AU in which Jimmy is spared and left to pick up the pieces. Alternating POV. Comments/reviews welcome, I'd love to hear from you. A work in progress/ additional chapters to be added periodically.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating: **M for language and some sexual content  
**Pairing: **Jimmy Darmody/OFC  
**Other Characters: **Richard Harrow, Angela Darmody, Gillian Darmody, Tommy Darmody, Mickey Doyle  
**Disclaimer: **I own nothing Boardwalk Empire. No copyright infringement intended.  
**Notes: **Title inspired the song by Rascal Flatts. Set in autumn, 1922. AU in which Jimmy is spared and left to pick up the pieces. Chapters told in alternating POV. I originally posted some of this to live journal, but experienced difficulty with formatting. Comments/reviews welcome, I'd love to hear from you. A work in progress/ additional chapters to be added periodically.

It was a crisp November morning, too cold to have the top down but Reese Forrester didn't care. She didn't know how fast she was going, but she didn't care about that either.

She sped along, her left thumb furiously channel surfing the radio control on her steering wheel. She just wanted to escape; to go as far away as she could, as fast as she could get there. Given the choice, she would have been on a plane to Hawaii _but no…_the New Jersey State Bar Association had decided to hold their annual meeting in Atlantic City. As much as she wanted to skip it entirely, they'd asked her to give a keynote address regarding her involvement in the recent Stacey Edwards defense case. The cruel irony being that, although she was starting to hate what she did for a living, her career was the only thing she had left and she couldn't say no.

And then there was Bryce. "_Fucking Bryce,"_ she cursed under her breathe, "_I'm not going to think about him. I'm NOT going to think about him_," her mantra repeating on a loop inside her head.

She was becoming increasingly frustrated with the radio. It was nothing but commercial after commercial. She'd forgotten her car adapter and couldn't connect her iPhone, nor was she in the mood for any of the CD's that were loaded. The stations that she did find played nothing to her liking.

_They tell me your life's been way off line, _

_You're falling to pieces every time,_

_And I don't need no carrying on…_

_You had a bad day-_

"You got that right, Daniel Powter. And it's not even 10 am," she mused aloud, continuing her search.

_It's like you're always stuck in second gear_

_Well it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year…_

"_That_ is an understatement…" she rolled her hazel eyes. Flip.

_We could have had it all_

_Rolling in the deep_

_You had my heart inside of your hands_

_But you played it…_

"God damn you, Bryce," she snapped; hot, angry tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she thought about the divorce papers in her briefcase. Next.

_Does she speak eloquently?_

_And would she have your baby?_

_I'm sure she'd make a really excellent mother…_

"Perfect," she smiled to herself. Reese turned the volume up as high as it would go and pressed her foot down on the accelerator. Her Jaguar responded accordingly, whizzing down the Garden State Parkway. A silver XKR-S. It was _hers._ Bought with her own money, not with his. One of the first items she treated herself to after becoming a partner complete with vanity license plates: "MSPURRFCT".

Reese loved that car but she hated where it was taking her. Atlantic City…what a dump. Had been for years. With Vegas and the new casinos that were springing up in neighboring Pennsylvania it just couldn't compete. And November? What was the NJSBA thinking holding the conference there in the off-season? Probably the result of the recession, she surmised. Her only consolation was that she was staying at the new Revel Resort and that all expenses were being charged to the firm.

She checked in and went straight to the spa. She was going to get the works: manicure, pedicure, facial, massage. Why not? She certainly deserved it after everything she'd been through. The services did not disappoint. A few hours later and she almost felt like a new person. Buffed and shiny and new..._almost._ It was late afternoon. Relaxed from her massage, she decided to head back to her suite for a nap. She'd have room service for dinner and work on her speech for the following morning.

The surf-n-turf was delicious. Though it was chilly, Reese had her meal out on the balcony overlooking the ocean. She dipped her lobster into the drawn butter and savored every bite. Full as she was afterwards, she still felt empty inside. She wondered if she would always feel this way as her hand subconsciously grazed over her abdomen. Needing to distract herself, she went back inside to get her laptop and practice her address. As she opened her briefcase, the divorce papers came tumbling out.

Eight years. Eight years they'd been together. They dated for three and were married for five. They were perfect together. Everything was perfect, _just perfect_ until…it wasn't anymore. Reese felt like such a fool. This time she couldn't fight it and the flood gates opened. She sank to the floor and buried her head in her knees, heaving one sob after another until she couldn't breathe.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to fall in love with him. Given her history, she wasn't supposed to fall in love with _anyone_. They met as first year law students at Villanova. Bryce Forrester was as rich a blue blood as they come. He was handsome, with jet-black hair and dark blue eyes. He'd flirt with everyone on campus and most girls adored him. But Reese McManus was not most girls. She was working two jobs just to pay for school, in addition to taking out student loans, while he didn't have a care in the world. She found his playboy behavior nauseating. Still, she couldn't say no to Sarah Murphy when she asked if he could be a part of the group they were putting together to do the outlines for their Criminal Law class. She knew Sarah liked him, and was anxious to get to know him better. Sarah was her roommate and a good friend from undergrad. Reese just hoped she would proceed cautiously.

It was clear early on the Bryce did not return Sarah's affections. It was also clear that he had no intentions of doing his fair share of the outlines. Frustrated after another study session turned out to be a complete waste of her time, Reese decided to give him a piece of her mind. Her mother was a drunk and she'd been poor her whole life. This was her only shot and she wasn't about to let him ruin it.

T

he group walked out of the library, Bryce ahead of everyone else as usual. He was in his own world, scrolling away on his Blackberry. His black BMW was parked a few spaces before her jalopy and he was fishing around his pocket for the keys when she caught up with him.

"Hey, Bryce?"

"Hmm?" He looked up at her nonchalantly, thinking she was hitting on him.

"Don't bother coming to the next meeting."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, 'don't bother coming to the next meeting.' You're not contributing anything." She looked at him archly and narrowed her green eyes.

"Is that so…"

He was so snarky and arrogant she couldn't stand it. She was angry, although it wasn't so much at him anymore. The world was full of haves and have-nots. Reese was tired of belonging to the latter group, her pride welling up inside her.

"Yes, you pompous jerk. Not everyone has a job at their family's law firm waiting for them after graduation. Some of us will actually have to work for a living."

"Are you finished counselor?" he mocked with a grin. "How 'bout you let me make it up to you? Dinner? Drinks maybe?"

She glared at him. Who did he think he was? She put her hands on her hips trying to appear more confident than she actually was.

"Reese," he said seriously now, "why do you hate me so much?"

He was making a face that reminded her of a lost puppy. _Don't fall for it Reese, you're smarter than that._ She sighed in spite of herself. She didn't hate him. In fact, she liked him a lot more than she was willing to admit. There was no denying he was attractive and it wasn't really his fault that he was rich.

"I don't even know you that well," she muttered.

"So get to know me."

"But what about Sarah? She's one of my best friends and you're leading her on."

"Sarah? Reese…I _know_ she's your friend…why do you think I started talking to her in the first place? Did you think it's a coincidence that I asked her if I could join the study group?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," she said pensively. He cocked his head to side as if to say "_C'mon now," _and Reese gulped_. _ She didn't like where this was going, but she didn't want to leave yet either. She was standing at the rear of his car and Bryce walked closer to her. Tingles were running down her spine.

"Yes you do," he whispered as he pushed her against the trunk and kissed her. At first she pulled away. Then, as he ran his fingers through her chestnut hair, she realized that it was what she wanted all along.

"Reese?" said a small voice. She hadn't realized that Sarah was not with them when they left the library. She'd stopped to use the ladies room on her way out.

"Sarah!" she called out, but her roommate was already running away.

Was it really love or just a long, drawn out lie? Reese didn't know anymore. Her suite was enormous, but all at once it felt like the walls were closing in on her. She picked herself up off the floor, grabbed her handbag and jacket, and headed out the door.

"_I just need to get some fresh air_," she told herself as she hurried out of the Revel's lobby and out onto the Boardwalk. "_I just need some air, and then everything will be fine_."

Reese was surprised by how many shops were still open even though it was autumn. One in particular caught her attention the most- the Palmist. She was never one to believe in fortune tellers yet she found herself being almost pulled towards it. Everything was spiraling out of control so she didn't see the harm in taking a peek into her future even if it was just for fun. Surely things would eventually get better.

"Hello?" she said as she entered the store. The air smelled of incense and Reese crinkled her nose. The walls were painted light lavender. A large round table was in the center of the small room, the tablecloth a deep merlot. She could hear a flute in the background.

"Reese McManus Forrester, I've been expecting you."

Reese looked up to see a short, plump woman approaching from the back of the store, shuffling Tarot cards. Her skin was a bronze glow and she wore dark red lipstick. Her hair was done up in a turban, large gold hoops adorning her lobes.

"How did you know my name?"

"I am Madame Celeste. I know all," she replied with a mysterious smile. "Sit."

Reese didn't buy it. Maybe someone from the conference saw her leave the hotel and this was a practical joke. Still, she did as she was told.

"The key to your future lies in the past," Celeste said solemnly as she handed Reese a business card.

"Joe's Coffee," she read aloud, "…not your average cup o'Joe? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Reese was about to ask for a refund when she recalled that she hadn't paid for Celeste's services yet.

"You look like you could use some coffee," the other woman winked. "Go to the address listed. The password to get in is Lilith."

"A password? For coffee? That's ridiculous! Thank you, but I think I'll be leaving now." Reese looked around her as she stood, expecting to see a colleague or old friend from law school laughing with her.

Celeste grabbed her wrist, her eyes narrow. "I wouldn't leave if I were you. She'll be disappointed."

"Who will?" Reese questioned, jerking her arm away.

"Trust Celeste. I know, child. I know about the baby and your mother."

Reese felt a chill go through her veins. "What did Bryce tell you?" she hissed.

"Not Mr. Forrester."

"Well, I know by obstetrician wouldn't violate patient/doctor privilege so that leaves Maggie. Where is she? What did she tell you?" Reese was really starting to get upset again, everything she'd tried so hard to bury over the last few months coming rushing back at once.

"Not your mother either. There, there, child…trust. I know it's difficult," she went on, getting something out of her pocket. It was a Pandora bracelet with a series of pink rhinestones, spaced between charms with letters on them spelling the name "Charlotte."

It was beautiful, and Reese was overcome as Celeste clasped it on her right wrist. "How? How do you know?" She croaked, gingerly running her left index finger over the name.

Celeste gave her a tissue. "A friend."

"Who?" Reese asked again, desperate now.

"All in due time. For now, go to Joe's," she commanded. "We will meet again," Celeste added, pushing a distraught Reese back onto the Boardwalk and locking the door to her shop.

"Wait!" Reese called after her, pounded her hand against the glass window front. "Please wait!" But the room went dark and Madame Celeste was gone just as suddenly as she'd appeared.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the truth…everything he told Nucky that stormy night. A part of him died in a trench. Although, if he were being really honest, Jimmy Darmody would have also admitted that another part died even before the War. He kept their secret, never told a soul. He couldn't, his guilt and shame were all encompassing. He made so many mistakes. Fought so hard and lost. And that night, in the pouring rain, he surrendered.

But the gun was unloaded. In the end, his former mentor decided that even death was letting him off too easy.

"It's my fault," he admitted to Richard the night after her funeral. It was one of the few times he said it out loud. They were at the beach house, alone in the sunroom, sharing a good bottle from George Remus before it was cut-down. It was potent and wonderfully numbing. Not as much as Charlie's merchandise, _that_ he'd liked a little too much, but after what he'd done coming down from the high Jimmy was reluctant to touch it again.

The moonlight shone through the windows, but it was still dark enough that Jimmy couldn't see the look in Richard's eye. His friend did a good job at reserving his judgment, but Jimmy knew he'd cared for her almost as much as he did, possibly even more. He never questioned whether it was plutonic or romantic or simply as a substitute for his sister. But he knew, and he felt it. It wouldn't have mattered even if Richard were attracted to her. There was really nothing either of them could do to satisfy her.

It wasn't until Angela was gone that he'd realized what was right there in front of him all along. She'd tried to leave before. He read the letter-it was all there. He'd read it over, and over, and over trying to make sense of it all. And then she came back…and he could breathe again. He never asked her why she returned. He was just glad she was home, although he couldn't show it right away. He'd foolishly assumed that Mary was just her way of punishing him for joining the Army; much akin to her cutting her long, beautiful hair.

True they were married, but she'd outright told him she didn't love him. "…Because we have a child. It's what society expected of me. Because you kept pushing it…" It was all so confusing to him. Their last conversation, the last time they made love _she_ initiated it. He _thought _she enjoyed it. He'd failed her on so many levels. Not only could he not meet her needs, but his poor judgment had put her life as well as Tommy's in jeopardy.

Now the boy was all he had left; living, breathing proof that they were once in love, or something close to it. He would protect the child at all costs.

Bringing Tommy up at the beach house was out of the question, so the mansion would have to do. While it was also a house of horrors, its location was more secluded and less vulnerable to future attack. Jimmy still had enemies and the estate was well fortified. There was an eight-foot wrought iron fence around the property, peaked with decorative yet sharp spears. If an intruder were to somehow get over the fence without getting impaled, they would have the guard dogs to contend with. Jimmy additionally had large holly bushes planted around the foundation of the structure, covering the first story windows. His mother suggested that the windows on the second floor be adorned with black iron to match the fence.

"Like a French chateau," she beamed.

"Fuck France," he'd muttered under his breath but installed the bars nevertheless.

Finally, if all else failed, there was Richard. Jimmy offered to pay him for his services but, ever loyal, the soldier scoffed at the idea. He stayed there every night, never leaving his post.

There was no public school for Tommy, nor did he attend any private academy. Jimmy spared no expense and hired Leander to tutor him. Though they hadn't always seen eye-to-eye in the past, there was no denying the older man's intelligence. Jimmy didn't trust his own instincts anymore. Aside from Richard, he didn't really trust anyone. Leander, while aging, saved him the trouble of having to interview and vet suitable candidates for the position. Plus, Tommy seemed to like him which was an added bonus.

"He looks like St. Nicholas!" the child giggled when his father asked him how his first session had gone.

"Then I guess this year'll be the best Christmas ever," Jimmy smiled back, but almost choked on the words as they came out of his mouth.

He let his mother redecorate to suit her tastes, giving her carte-blanche. His only request was that the animals be removed. They'd always frightened him when he was younger and Tommy had been through enough already. What if the child awoke with another nightmare? Jimmy couldn't bear the thought of him coming down the darkened staircase only to be further agitated by the shadow of the massive bear. They were sold at auction to some tycoon on Long Island.

Jimmy didn't live there. He was a moving target. The less he were around, the safer Tommy would be. Still, he made sure to see the boy daily and today was no different. He frowned as he slowly limped up the front steps. His leg had been bothering him all day. It usually hurt more when the weather turned cold, but he'd almost forgotten how much. He could feel the dampness, a dull nagging ache, with every step. He allowed himself one more painful grimace and stubbed out his cigarette before entering the house. It wasn't fair to Tommy. He deserved so much more, the least Jimmy could do was try to put on a happy face for him.

"Daddeee!" It was the sweetest sound in the world. Jimmy barely opened the door when the little one came bounding down the marble staircase. He threw his arms around his father, hugging him tightly around his good leg.

"Hey pal. How was your day?" he said, tousling Tommy's dark locks.

"It was good," the boy looked up at him with his big brown eyes. They were so full of hope; so warm, so trusting. So much like hers that Jimmy felt a small piece of himself die every time he met Tommy's adoring gaze. He was shattered; broken. Little fragments splintering everywhere until one day Jimmy wondered if there would be anything left of him at all. Sometimes it took everything in him not to look away. But he couldn't, _wouldn't_ reject him that way. What kind of man denounces his own son? Jimmy knew all too well, and he wasn't that person.

He was far from perfect by he was trying. He was trying so hard to keep it together. But he knew that some day, when the boy was old enough, he would have to tell him what happened to Angela. Over a year had passed, and he'd been dodging the issue whenever it came up; distracting the child with a new toy or suggesting that Gillian or Richard take him out for ice cream in lieu of answering. He wasn't going to lie either, as his mother suggested. Jimmy knew he couldn't avoid the question forever but the truth…the truth would change the way Tommy looked at him and he couldn't give that up yet no matter how much it hurt.

"There's a platter for you," Gillian chirped, ringing the servant bell. She was always too happy to see him. Much in the same way she was a little too enthusiastic about practically raising his son. But, she was a better grandparent than she ever was a parent and the three of them made their way through the large house to the dining room.

Jimmy took his place at the head of the large, mahogany table, his mother on one side his son on the other. A sharp, white-hot pain radiated down his leg as he was sitting down. He tried to hide it, but it nearly took his breath away.

"Something wrong, dear?" his mother asked.

"_Everything's wrong_," he thought. The dark look he gave her in response told her not to ask again. Jimmy had a few bites of his roast chicken, and pushed the vegetables around on his plate to give the appearance to Tommy that he was actually eating them, but he wasn't the least bit hungry. He put the plate aside and turned his attentions to his son.

"What did you learn today?"

"Arithmetic."

Jimmy nodded enthusiastically, trying to coax the child for more details but Tommy only pouted. It reminded him so much of himself that Jimmy cracked a grin, a real one this time. _What am I gonna do with him Ange?_ He'd hated math when he was in school. He was always better at reading and history.

"What's that look for?"

"I don't _like_ it. It's _boring_. So is Mr. Fuddy-duddy," Tommy replied, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Tommy, I don't like your tone," Gillian sternly told the child. Then, as if the boy were no longer in the same room with them she added to her own son, "You know…you can't keep him cooped up in here forever. He's getting restless. Don't you remember being his age? Always running around outside?"

Jimmy couldn't contain his snicker. He remembered, alright. He remembered how she didn't know where he was half the time. She was the last person in the world to be giving unsolicited parenting advice and he was just about to tell her when he felt another shock go through his lower half. It was worse than the last one and he pursed his lips. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing slowly. He didn't want Tommy to see him suffering, but he just didn't have it in him tonight to put on a show and he felt horrible about the whole situation.

"I'm gonna go," he said, rising from his chair.

"You just got here," Gillian retorted, glaring at him.

"Not now, Ma," he snapped.

Jimmy didn't feel like arguing with her. He shuffled down the hall back to the foyer, where Richard was descending the stairs.

"Going out. Again?"

"It's not a good day," he answered. Richard was the only one he could be honest with. Jimmy let his guard down and looked his friend in the eye. They knew each other so well that they could have entire conversations without ever saying a word. Richard gave him an understanding nod.

"Bye Daddy," Tommy said innocently as Jimmy was putting his hat on. He turned to hug him and his heart ached at the child's sad expression.

"Be good for Me-mawh and I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" he said as he pinched Tommy's cheek, a mannerism not acquired by blood, but natural to him just the same.

"Okay."

Jimmy braced himself against the railing on his way down the front steps. It was colder than usual for November, but he told himself he'd have to adjust. The pain would surely get worse in the coming winter months as it always did. Fortunately the car was just a few more steps and he plopped down into the driver's seat. Both legs hanging out the door, he used his hands to pick up his right one as he slowly turned to face the dashboard. By the time he was finally situated, he was so frustrated that he punched the steering wheel. _Great, now my hand hurts too. _He lit a cigarette and took a calming drag as he started the car. He drove away from the estate but he wasn't sure where he was going.

He couldn't go back to the beach house. Not yet. It was too early. Most of the time he stayed at the mansion long enough to put Tommy to bed and have a few drinks with Richard, returning home sometime after midnight. Still the nights were long, so long. He didn't sleep much, preferring to catnap in the morning and again in the late afternoon, starting his day around dusk. Now the thought of spending hours upon hours in the dark made his blood run cold. She was _there_. She was always there, she never left; her final punishment.

He drove aimlessly through the city, and stopped at the traffic sign on corner of Atlantic and New York Avenues. The driver's side window was cracked; smoke swirling out before evaporating into the night air. Jimmy glanced at it ruefully wishing he could disappear too when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar blue sign. He hadn't been to that part of town in a while and he found himself grinning.

It was a speak, the owner was not only a former customer but also one of his first. Jimmy didn't get out much anymore. He wasn't shunned from Babette's- Nucky gave him the courtesy of stepping down gracefully attributing the changing of the guard to the deaths of his wife and father- but he no longer wanted to go there, couldn't remember why he ever found it even remotely amusing. Before he knew it, Jimmy was parking the car and getting out. He knocked on the door, receiving a warm welcome from the bouncer.

"Jimmy Fuckin' Darmody! Where ya been buddy? First round's on me."

And Jimmy knew at that moment that he wasn't going to have such a bad night after all.

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	3. Chapter 3

Her fingers trembling, Reese punched the address on the business card into the GPS on her phone. According to Google Maps, it was a few blocks off the Boardwalk, not far enough that she would need to get the Jag but still too far to walk in her four-inch Manolos. She dabbed at her eyes as she descended the ramp from the Boardwalk to hail a cab.

"Where to?" asked the cabbie as she got in, his thick Jamaican accent reminding her of her honeymoon.

"Atlantic and New York," Reese heard herself say with a quiet resolve. It was strange. She couldn't explain it but she felt significantly more at peace than she'd been just a few moments earlier with Madame Celeste.

The taxi pulled up at the address she'd given, and Reese thought surely there must be some mistake. "This is it?" she questioned but the driver only smiled. It was a seedy neighborhood, most of the buildings boarded up. The coffee shop was on the corner, and looked as if it had been closed for years. Still, she heard Madame Celeste's voice inside her head, "She'll be disappointed…"

"Should I leave the meter running?"

"No," she said before she could even think about it.

She paid her fare, took a deep breath, and closed the car door behind her. Clack, clack, clack…she crossed the street and knocked on the door of the rickety old building, half expecting it to fall right off the hinges. There was silence and Reese sighed aloud. _What am I doing here?_

A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. It was a clear night, the electricity seemingly coming from nowhere. She slumped against the door, her cab now out of view and she'd have to call another. She was fishing around her purse for her phone when a man's voice startled her.

"What's the password?" he asked gruffly.

"Lilith?" she replied meekly.

The whole thing was crazy. Maybe she was losing it. Maybe too much had happened and she'd finally gone over the edge. But the door opened and Reese slowly went in, completely surprised at the sights around her. It wasn't a coffee shop at all, but an underground jazz club. The place was packed and Reese felt like she'd stepped into another world. It was dark and smoky, and her eyes were already burning. Ragtime was playing in the far corner of the room, the pianist clearly enjoying himself as well as a few couples on the tiny dance floor. She squinted, brushing slightly against the round tables as she made her way back to the bar.

Clack, clack, clack. She held her head high as it dawned on her that she was out of her element, the other patrons being dressed very different than her. _Vintage, very retro._ Except that it wasn't just one or two people. It was everyone-the men in pinstriped suits and hats, the women in flapper dresses and ornate head bands. She was half-expecting to see Roxie Hart herself.

Did she crash a theme party? Reese wasn't sure. She'd left the Revel in such a hurry that she hadn't bothered to change out of her outfit from earlier that day. She didn't look terrible, but she wasn't dressed for a night out and she certainly didn't fit in with this group. She was wearing her favorite Chanel suit, jet-black jacket tailored to hug her curves in all the right places, matching knee-length pencil skirt. She wore a pale pink silk camisole under the blazer, just a few shades darker than her own creamy skin. She'd straightened her shoulder-length hair that morning, and it was down, her side-swept bangs lingering above her left eye just at the brow bone.

"Pardon me," she murmured, apologizing as her enormous Coach bag bumped into an older woman as Reese squeezed past her.

She finally made it to the bar and a man got up to give her his seat. Reese couldn't help but notice he was very tall. He gave her a creepy smile and giggled. "Thank you," she said demurely, meanwhile thinking to herself that he sounded like the Pilsbury Doughboy. He tipped his derby at her as she sat down.

"What'll it be, Doll?" asked the bartender.

"Pinot grigio please."

"Pena-whata?"

Reese resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Any house white will do."

"Lady, we don't got no wine here."

"Well, what _do_ you have?"

He leaned closer to her, looking her skeptically up and down.

"Jake-what else would we have? You want the good stuff, sweetheart, you're in the wrong place. You want a good time? Joe'll take care o'ya."

_Chauvinistic prick_. "I'll take a Martini."

He poured her a shot and put it in front of her. "That'll be three dollars."

Now she did roll her eyes. This was ridiculous. The drink was not what she ordered. Still, the retro price-tag was on par with the vibe in the rest of the club. And it was definitely better than the $16 drinks at Revel. Much like her exit from the cab, which she did without hesitation despite her better judgment, Reese found herself reaching into her bag for her wallet. When she gave the bartender her debit card, he looked at her like she had two heads. _Okay, cash-only_. She put the card back and took out a twenty dollar bill. He gave her a dirty look and muttered something under his breath while he got her change.

"Hey, big spender," said the man with derby, laughing again at his own joke.

Reese didn't find him the slightest bit amusing so she ignored him. She never was one to do shots. Growing up with a lush for a mother, she was always hesitant when it came to hard alcohol…really _any_ alcohol for that matter. Sure, she could handle a Cosmo or Manhattan on occasion, but only because they could be sipped. And she was always careful not to finish the whole drink, having learned the hard way during college that liquor did not agree with her.

She looked down at the shot, then up at the crowd around her, very much aware that she stuck out like a sore thumb. She hadn't felt so insecure since she first arrived at Villanova, her stubborn pride bubbling back up to the surface all at once. Thoughts of law school lead to thoughts of Bryce and before she knew what she was doing she'd emptied her glass. It burned, almost bringing tears to her eyes, and Reese winced, praying her stomach would keep it down. She needed a chaser, but she surmised from the bartender that would be asking too much.

She'd had a banner year, but not in a good way, and envied the smiling faces around her. The rest of the patrons seemed to be having so much fun. "_It isn't fair_," she thought all the while cursing Madame Celeste for sending her to this hole-in-the wall in the first place. She sighed as she looked up to the bartender.

"I'll have another."

Two shots later and Reese was already loosening up, which didn't go unnoticed by the company around her.

"First time here?" asked the man with the derby, seizing another opportunity to get to know her better. She nodded in response and found herself smiling lucidly. She'd almost forgotten what that felt like. He leaned down closer, narrowing his beady eyes as he looked into hers. He reminded Reese of a weasel. "You an agent?" he asked in a low voice.

"Come again?" she responded, puzzled.

"You know, a Prohi?"

"No. I'm a defense attorney," she said smugly and he almost spit out his drink.

"You know Esther Randolph?"

"Can't say that I do."

"Another lady lawyer…whatta ya' know," he giggled again and jabbed his elbow at the man seated next to her.

"Yes, apparently there are two of us," she said with a mocking grin.

He took this as a sign to continue and his eyes wandered to the direction of her left hand. The divorce as almost finalized, but she couldn't bring herself to take off her rings yet, and her diamond still sparkled even in the dim lighting. It was an obnoxiously large, two-and-a-half carat princess cut. Reese looked down at it herself, remembering the blue box it came in and the night Bryce proposed. Her whole face fell.

"Where's your Daddy tonight?"

"I don't have a father," she said solemnly.

"No…your Old Man." He nodded in the direction of the ring.

Reese was buzzed, the whiskey quickly working its way through her system. "Oh, you mean my husband? Or maybe I should start saying my soon-to-be-_ex-husband_," she thought aloud, not realizing that she was raising her voice. "Oh, _him,_" she added, the liquor fueling the flames of her anger towards Bryce, "He's probably fucking his secretary right about now."

She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat while the man in the derby bought them another round. She downed its contents.

"It's such a cliché!" she told him, "His _secretary_ for Christ's sake!"

"That's terrible," he replied sympathetically, giving her another shot.

"I know!" she gasped and put her empty glass on the bar. "My stupid mother…" she slurred, "She ruined _everything_. Everything, I tell you!"

"Your mother's his secretary?"

"No," she pouted and suppressed a sniffle. "You don't listen very well do you?"

"Well, Baby, you're not making a whole lotta sense," he said, plying her with more alcohol.

"C'mon Mickey," interjected the gentleman seated next to her, "Don't cha think she's had enough?" But the man in the derby just gave him a knowing look before resting his eyes on Reese's purse. She was too drunk to notice, but the other man nodded in perfect understanding.

"Everyone leaves…everyone leaves me!" she was on the verge of a crying jag, and really starting to cause a scene when the piano player started another jitterbug number. "Ya know what?" Reese smiled, "To hell with him! Dance with me!"

She tried to stand up and move closer to him, but her feet failed her and she nearly fell off the bar stool. He caught her.

"Oopsie!" she laughed hysterically and he giggled again.

"That's it- get her outta here!" the bartender barked.

Reese was sandwiched between the man with the derby and his friend as they lead her out of the club. She was a stumbling mess, and her shoes didn't help the matter. They'd gotten about a half a block down the sidewalk and she already needed to rest.

"Whew…" she huffed, blowing her wispy bangs out of her eyes as she leaned against one of the light posts. "I'm just gonna take these off…" she said slowly but she slid down the pole, landing on her buttocks.

"Where you stayin', Doll?" Mickey asked, opening the door to his car.

"The Revel," she slurred.

He looked at her quizzically. She was drunker than he originally thought. This was almost too easy. He glanced at his partner.

"Here, lemme help you up," the other man offered as he put one hand on her elbow and the other firmly on her bag.

Suddenly Reese froze. Something didn't feel right. It had all happened too fast. She knew she was drunk, but she was quickly becoming aware that she was also in trouble. She smiled appreciatively at her would-be hero and gave him a peck on the kiss on the cheek while groping around in her purse for her pepper spray. "_You had to get the biggest bag they made,"_ she chided herself until she finally located it.

"What's that you got there?" asked Mickey's friend.

"Nothing," she smiled sweetly, but the bottle was too large to conceal. The weasel was onto her as well.

"Doesn't look like nothin'," Mickey said. As he walked towards her, his friend tightened his grip on her left arm.

Reese gulped. She had the pepper spray in her right hand, and her shoes were now dangling between the middle and index fingers of her left which was currently immobilized. _Get it together Reese. You're only going to have one chance at this. _

"C'mon…show Mickey what's in your hand."

"Okie-dokie," she chirped. Reese dropped her shoes and simultaneously pulled herself closer to her mugger, holding the pepper spray just a few inches away from his face.

More giggles. Now his laughing was really starting to annoy her.

"What's so funny?"

"You get points for creativity, I'll give you that. Whatcha gonna do? Spray him with your perfume?"

"Exactly," she retorted spitefully as she pressed the nozzle.

"Aww!" the man moaned, releasing her as he grabbed his burning eyes.

Reese tried to run back to the bar, but her body betrayed her and she only managed to get a few feet away when Mickey caught up with her. He grabbed her wrist and spun her around so they were face-to-face. He pinned both her arms down, holding them tightly against her side. He squeezed them harder and marched her backwards towards the open car.

"You're hurting me," she whimpered.

"Oh, you wanna talk about pain?" mocked the man she sprayed, still blinking.

"Don't worry, Pete, she's gonna pay for that," Mickey told him as he jabbed Reese in the ribs with a pistol. She'd been resisting getting into the car, but didn't know how much longer she could hold out. She could feel the cold metal through her silk shirt, silent tears streaming down her face. Reese knew she was done for. _The baby…maybe I'll at least get to hold the baby now._ She was choking back sobs when she first heard it-a voice she wouldn't soon forget.

"Is that any way to treat a lady?"

It seemed to come from nowhere. Then, Reese saw a man approaching from the shadow of the building. He hobbled closer to them, the brim of his fedora tucked so low that she couldn't see his face.

Mickey looked over his shoulder. "Stay outta this, Jimmy," he sneered, then returned his attentions to her, his lips curling into an evil grin as a chill ran down Reese's spine.

"Can't do that, Mick. You know why, too, you piece of shit," he replied, shaking his head. "Hey, lemme ask you somethin'? Does preying on innocent women make you feel like a man? Or…are you just acutely aware that the only way girls'll talk to ya is if they're three-sheets-to-the-wind?"

As he got closer, Reese noticed that he was drawing an object from the inside of his coat. He moved stealthily, almost mechanically, and wasted no time in striking her assailant over the head with it, knocking him out cold.

"Not laughing now, are ya?" Then, turning to Pete, he added, "Tell your boss this is a warning. I don't wanna have to remind him again."

"Sssure Jimmy. Wha-whatever you say."

It was only then that Reese noticed what he had in his hand. She'd never seen anything like it before- a dagger, the blade long and gleaming in the moonlight, the handle large and rounded connecting to a set of brass knuckles. She was shaking; her eyes wide and fixated on the knife.

"It's okay," he assured her in a softer tone- almost as if she were a child, "I'm not gonna hurtcha."

He held both his hands up innocently, trying to put her at ease but it was too late. Inebriated and completely overcome, she fainted.

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	4. Chapter 4

A cool breeze caressed her cheeks as Reese awoke to the pleasant sound of wind chimes outside her window, the swoosh of the ocean in the distance reminding her that she was not in her own bed. She had a terrible headache and, although it hurt, she slowly opened her eyes, her long lashes fluttering as she stretched her arms above her head and yawned. She rolled over onto her left side, one hand under the pillow the other snuggled against the quilt, her nose greeted by the mouth-watering smell of bacon. She blinked, startled to find she was not in her suite at Revel, and surveyed her surroundings. The room was quaint, morning sunlight streaming through the lace curtains on all three sides and she squinted. The few pieces of furniture she could see were rustic, antique-looking, and she thought she must be at a bed and breakfast or inn of some sort. The aroma from the kitchen grew stronger and she smiled. _Bryce…_

She didn't recall much from the previous evening and winced. Had she drunk dialed him? She chuckled to herself, remembering the early days when they first started dating and how he'd always been the one to call her in the middle of the night. She glanced down, and found that she was wearing one of his button-down shirts. Except…it didn't smell like her ex-husband, nor was it a color he would normally wear. It was navy and slightly faded whereas Bryce preferred only stark-white. There was a chair across from the foot of the bed, and Reese noted that her camisole and skirt were folded neatly on the seat under her purse; her jacket on a hanger on the closet doorknob. Her heart raced as she heard his approaching footsteps. She smiled sweetly, looking over to the open door, hoping all had been forgiven.

But it was not Bryce who stood before her and Reese felt like she'd had the wind knocked out of her. She bit her lip nervously. Her hands started shaking so she hid them under the covers.

She'd never had a one-night stand. Bryce was her first and her only. She had no idea who this person was. Yet here she was…apparently in his bed…and wearing one of his shirts. She looked him over carefully, raking her brain to try to remember how she'd spent the last few hours.

He appeared to be a few years younger than she, early 20's to her 29, and very handsome. He was tall, but not too tall. He wore a white tank shirt, and Reese could see the definition in his arms and shoulders. His trousers were a charcoal gray, with a lighter gray pin-strip and, while he had suspenders attached at his waist, they dangled down against his thighs. He cocked his head slightly, his strong jaw dotted with a five o'clock shadow. Aside from that he had a baby face, supple pillowy lips. How could she kiss those lips and not remember? His dark blonde hair was longer on the top than it was on the sides, a few stray tendrils falling forward around his steel blue eyes. She'd never seen eyes so blue before. They were hypnotizing and she couldn't look away, couldn't speak even. He gave her a friendly grin, and held out the plate he was carrying. _He cooks too?_ A melting jumble of emotions, she smiled back sheepishly.

"The protein should help with your hangover," he said gently, handing Reese her breakfast.

She felt her blood run cold. That voice, she knew that voice. _Mr. Scary-Knife-Guy? I slept with Mr. Scary-Knife-Guy? Are you kidding me?_ She took the plate from him, but couldn't bring herself to say anything, not even 'thank you', in response. She wasn't sure if he were a psycho or a vigilante. She just knew that her head was throbbing and she wanted to get the hell out of there. She took a few bites, while he leaned against the doorframe watching her.

"The coffee's almost done," he said casually, as if they'd known each other for years. "Oh, and I almost forgot," he grinned boyishly looking down at the glass of orange juice in his other hand. "Here," he added as he gave it to her.

_I suppose you made this yourself? With your big-scary-knife? _

Reese kept her comments to herself and immediately felt remorseful for thinking such thoughts in the first place. She knew plenty of girls who'd done the walk-of-shame. He was obviously trying to be nice. He did rescue her, after all. She pushed the food around on her plate, figuring this morning was the awkward byproduct of her way of thanking him. If she were being honest, the person she was really upset with was herself for getting so drunk in the first place. She looked up from her plate, his eyes drawing her in again.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Sure," he replied reaching into his pocket. He got out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, inhaling deeply. She wrinkled her nose. "This bother you?" he asked, opening one of the windows.

"It's your place," she shrugged. "What a night, huh?" the lawyer in her taking over as she coaxed him for anything that would help her remember their evening together.

He grinned again and her heart skipped a beat. Was that _for _her or _at_ her? She found herself hoping it was the former. Still, he didn't answer her question. She'd try another angle.

"This is really delicious," she said of her meal.

"Scrambled eggs are easy. Poachin' em…not so much."

"Do you like to cook?"

"A person's gotta eat, right?"

"I suppose," she mused, disappointed that this was going nowhere.

"The coffee should be ready. I'll be right back."

She watched as he shuffled off. His right leg was stiff, and she couldn't help but wonder why. He returned momentarily and handed her a mug. She took a sip and nearly spat out its contents. It was really strong.

"I shoulda asked how you took it," he apologized. "I…just always make it black. You don't have to drink it if you don't wanna."

"It's fine," she said politely. "Almost like a French roast." She meant it as a compliment, but he only frowned. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to offend you. Really. You've been so kind…" _Now would be where you say his name…oh that's right genius you still don't know his name. _

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of tires stopping on the gravel outdoors. She could feel her new friend tensing up, his whole demeanor changed. As the front door opened, Reese soon learned the answer to one of her many questions.

"James?" Called a woman's voice, her heels tapping on the hardwood floors as she walked through the house.

He said and did nothing. He just stood there, lost in his thoughts. Reese quickly glanced towards his left hand. It bore no ring, yet her own did and it meant nothing. Moreover, she reasoned with herself, it was certainly possible that he'd taken it off as Bryce had done to make himself feel less guilty. She swallowed hard. Now _she _was the other woman, and she'd never felt so ashamed before. She mentally prepared for the scene that would likely ensue, knowing that it wasn't going to be pretty.

A few moments later the woman reached the bedroom and Reese held her breath. She was beautiful, strawberry blonde hair pulled neatly back in a bun showcasing her elegant swan neck. She wore a long, mustard-green skirt and a long-sleeved cream blouse. Her earrings and necklace matched the skirt, amber and jade, and brought out the color of her eyes. They were green, like Reese's, but catlike, and she narrowed them at the lovers as she scowled.

"This is why you were in such a rush after dinner?" she nodded towards the bed. She smirked and shook her head disapprovingly. "I see you've moved on from lesbians to cross-dressers," she quipped. "Well done, dear."

This wasn't what she'd expected and Reese was slightly relieved. The woman's tone was snarky, more akin to that of a jealous ex than current flame. Still, he was visibly wounded by what she'd said, and it touched Reese's heart.

"It's called knocking," she said sarcastically. "You should try it sometime."

The woman glared at her, then turned to him as if to say, _'Are you going to let her speak to me that way?_' He continued his silence, but he looked Reese in the eye and she knew at once that he was appreciative. The woman cocked her head and put her right hand on her hip in frustration.

"It's not like that, Ma," he finally said, taking her by the elbow and leading her out of the room and into the hall.

_Ma!? _It wasn't lost on Reese that the woman was in her late thirties, but she'd simply assumed that he had a thing for older women. She certainly didn't look old enough to be his mother. "_The wonders of Botox," _Reese mused as she strained her ears trying to listen to their conversation.

"She was in a jam. What was I s'posed to do? Just leave her there?"

"So you fell for the damsel in distress act? It's the oldest trick in the book. I expect more from you," she lectured. Then, sighing regretfully she added, "That's not going to change things."

"You think I don't know that?" he looked down at his feet. "What if it were you, Ma? Huh, what about that?" he challenged her and she seemed to back off. "Look, nothin' happened…I slept on the couch."

Now Reese was the one sighing. She stopped listening after that. She was mortified. She'd judged him so harshly and couldn't have been more wrong. She turned away, her cheeks burning as she looked out the window onto the beach. She didn't realize when he returned to the room alone.

"Sorry about that," he said and she jumped. "Listen, Charlotte-"

She recoiled, eyeing him suspiciously. Charlotte. The word hung in the air like the smoke from his latest cigarette. "That's not my name," she said slowly.

He looked confused, "It's on your bracelet."

Reese looked down, having forgotten all about Madame Celeste's gift. She felt a lump in her throat and large, hot tears welling up in her eyes. Her lip quivered as she tried to cover it up, but he noticed right away. She'd never get used to having this conversation, a part of her wondering if the pain would ever dissipate but another holding onto it with everything she had.

"She was my daughter," she whispered.

_Was. _

He turned his head slightly to the side, and regarding her thoughtfully. The look said more to Reese than anyone had since she'd lost her; even more than Bryce himself. There was no judgment, no pity, no false sympathy. There was just…understanding. As if he knew there was nothing he could say that would bring the child back, nor comfort her mother.

"What is your name?" he asked softly.

"Reese," she exhaled, "You know, like the candy."

He shrugged.

"My mother," she went on, "That was her craving during pregnancy."

"I think it's pretty."

She felt like a lost little girl. She tried to force a thankful smile, but her hangover and her emotions got the best of her and she couldn't. He walked closer to the bed, and she felt herself getting goose bumps. He took the half-empty plate from her lap.

"Well, Reese," he said, sensing she was overwhelmed, "why don't you take a little nap and I'll be here when you wake up, okay?" He was using the same soothing tone as when he first approached her the previous evening.

"Okay," she found herself agreeing as she nestled down under the covers and closed her eyes.

She liked the way he said her name and, as rotten as she felt, eagerly anticipated opening them again. It was the first time in a long time that Reese had looked forward to anything.


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm sorry," he said aloud as he cleaned up the kitchen.

Jimmy was sorry, but he wasn't sure why exactly. He'd cheated on her before and thought nothing of it. Pearl…she was special, but he'd owned up to that and they weren't married then. The girl from the boxing match, she was just a tramp. She fed his ego, bolstering his confidence at a time when he didn't know which end was up. She _wanted_ him. She made that very clear and it felt good to be wanted. He wished his wife would have touched him that way, but she hadn't been touching much of anything; he considered himself lucky when she even _looked_ at him. It was revenge…it was wrong and he knew it but he did it anyway. He had needs. He had so many needs the release was bittersweet, leaving him feeling almost intoxicated. He never saw her again, but he didn't want to either. He came home to his wife as if it were any other night. She didn't question him, but he didn't understand why until it was too late.

His stomach was in knots and his leg still hurt from the previous day, so he took his frustrations out on the frying pan, feverishly scrubbing it with a wire brush. He sighed and looked out the kitchen window, recalling all the times she'd stood in the very same spot. He decided to let the pan soak and walked over to the kitchen table. Jimmy sank down into one of the chairs and got out his cigarettes. He lit one and propped his chin up against his knuckles as he stared down at the empty table.

"I didn't touch her," he said, which was true.

He hadn't touched the woman currently in his bed but he felt so guilty that he may as well have. While he'd helped her out of her clothes it was not done with _that_ intention; she was passed out cold and he merely thought she'd be more comfortable. Still, he couldn't help but feel as if he'd committed yet another act of betrayal.

But Jimmy _was _being deceitful. Except this time he was lying to himself, not Angela.

* * *

Jimmy sat at the far end of the bar, in the very last seat. It was a dark corner, but that was just what he wanted. He'd been there about fifteen minutes and was chatting with Joe when she walked in. He noticed her right away-everyone did. Not only was she showing her ankles, but her skirt also left her knees exposed. Knees _and_ ankles, that was almost unheard of. Not that he minded. Her calves were smooth and toned, and his mind wandered thinking about what the rest of her might look like. But he knew he wasn't the only man wondering that. While others may have worked they way up from her knees, Jimmy's eyes were drawn down to her shoes. Black and shiny. The toes were extremely pointed; the heels higher than anything even his mother had in her closet. He was amazed at her poise as she strode across the room. She held her head high despite the stares further gaining his respect.

She wore what appeared to be a boy's jacket, but, given the cooler temperatures, he didn't second guess that. A lot of folks, especially in that neighborhood, had to make do with whatever they could to keep them warm. At the same time, it appeared tailored and perfectly matched the color of her skirt.

Her chestnut hair was poker-straight. It was down, falling just past her shoulders. _Not long, but longer than_ _hers_. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She reached the full bar and Mickey Doyle got up to give her his seat. _Fuckin' rat_.

She couldn't hold her liquor. That wasn't too surprising- he knew first hand that the stuff Joe was serving was mixed several times over. There was no telling the proof of any given bottle. It was cheap and but it was also very effective, something he'd once prided himself on. At first she was smiling, and Jimmy found himself smiling too. But it wasn't long before she was visibly upset, jabbering on and on about her cheating spouse and…something about her mother. He tried not to eavesdrop but he couldn't help himself. The more he heard, the more he wanted to know.

She was hardly discrete, but he didn't judge. Hadn't he come there to drown his own sorrows as well? He pondered this a moment and it dawned on him that he wasn't sure why he was there. He'd just happened upon the place; gone in without really thinking about it.

Joe told him that she'd paid with a twenty dollar bill. Jimmy was living much more comfortably than in years past- no thanks to his father- but even he didn't carry around that much cash. And Joe said it looked like her wallet was full from what he could tell. Between that and the rock it was clear she had money.

Mickey, that snake, he kept giving her more and more. He always had an ulterior motive, and Jimmy could tell where this was going. _How is he still alive?_ He cursed himself for not killing him when he had the chance. She was a sloppy mess, falling out of her seat and almost knocking over another patron's drink when Joe cut her off and Mickey made his move, practically dragging her outside.

Anyone could have stopped them from leaving but didn't, and as the door shut behind them Jimmy knew he couldn't let anything happen to her. It didn't make sense, he didn't even know her. He closed his tab with Joe and put his hat back on.

Jimmy stayed close to the wall, hidden in the darkness under the cover of the overhanging roof. The pain in his leg was excruciating, he hadn't drank enough to even remotely numb it, but he tried his best to bend his knee as that made for a more fluid- and quieter- motion. He was surprised to find she was holding her own as he watched from the shadows. She was sassy, and he found himself almost amused. She sprayed Pete with some sort of toxin and he cringed, remembering the feeling of a gas mask against his own face. Years had passed, but it seemed like yesterday. Then Mickey caught up with her and the situation quickly escalated.

Mickey Doyle…who'd tried to poison him with formaldehyde. Mickey Doyle…who would turn on his own mother if it meant saving himself. Mickey Doyle…who Jimmy knew in his gut gave the butcher his address. "_Not this time," _he resolved as he sprang into action. Jimmy wanted to kill him, he really did, but there were witnesses and he knew better so he settled for knocking him out. She was shaking and crying, but all he could see was Angela and he wanted to vomit. He couldn't think about it too long because the next thing he knew she passed out.

_Shit. _He was planning on taking her back to wherever it was that she came from, but now he didn't know what to do with her. There was only one place to go.

* * *

Jimmy watched her as she napped, pulling a chair mid-way between the bedroom door and the side window. Close to her, but not too close. He couldn't, he _wouldn't_ let himself get too close; it spelled disaster. He was a threat to all those around him. He'd learned it the hard way, with Pearl, but always partially blamed Al for that. It was the life he chose, the life he was now forced to live.

Yet he was captivated by her. Apparently her marriage was on the rocks, if not already over, and he found himself wondering what had happened between her and her mother. _Why should I care?_ But he did. He also felt horrible about his indiscretion with her name, but how could he have known she lost a child. The guilt was just overwhelming; guilt on top of guilt on top of even more guilt. That there was another woman in his house, _in his bed_, was almost unthinkable. Jimmy knew what he had to do. When she woke up, he would take her home and never see her again.


	6. Chapter 6

Reese slept peacefully all morning. Her headache was gone and she felt much better. She felt her lips curl into a smile and she held her breath as she opened her eyes. There he was, just as he'd promised. He was looking out the window at the surf, and she watched him a few moments, admiring his profile and perfect pout. He must have sensed she was awake because he looked over and she felt her heart stop.

_What is wrong with you?_ _You're a grown woman not a school-girl. _

"Good afternoon Sleepin' Beauty," he teased.

"Afternoon? Oh my God! What time is it!?"

The conference. Her speech. _Fuck_. Reese was so disoriented when she first woke up that she completely forgot why she was in Atlantic City in the first place. She sat up abruptly and immediately regretted it, her head still woozy and her stomach churning.

"Almost twelve-fifteen. Why?"

"I blew it. I totally blew it. How am I going to explain this to the partners?" Reese said, speaking more to herself than to him. Her head was spinning and she slouched back down against the pillows.

Jimmy regarded her sympathetically. Again he found that he wanted to know more but, after his foot-in-mouth moment earlier, was reluctant to ask. They sat in silence for a minute or two while she regrouped.

"Can you hand me my purse?" she asked, aware that she still wasn't wearing anything other than his shirt.

He obliged and she wasted no time in probing around the large bag. Out came her wallet, a set of keys, a compact, and, finally, a small rectangular device he'd never seen before. She smiled upon finding the last item. It was black on top, and pink on the sides and bottom. At first he thought it might be a fancy cigarette case, but it was too small. He was even more confused when she started rubbing her index finger and thumb against the black part.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath. "Do you have a charger I could use?"

He looked puzzled.

"Oh…you don't have an iPhone." She shrugged nonchalantly, "My last one was a Droid. It was alright, but this one was on the firm…not that I'm complaining."

"What is it?" he finally asked, almost feeling foolish for not knowing.

"A cell phone…" she replied with a hint of sarcasm. She thought he must be joking again so she smiled. When he didn't smile back it occurred to her that something was off. The time to make her exit was long overdue, but not without a proper good-bye. "James-" she started.

"Jimmy. You can call me Jimmy."

Nucky always called him by his Christian name when he wanted to sound condescending. His mother too, and he couldn't stand it.

Reese nodded in acknowledgement and began again. "Jimmy…thank you for…well, for everything really." She looked up at him from under her shaggy bangs. "This may sound ridiculous but I never do things like this. I'm not much of a drinker and…I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I'm more than a little embarrassed about my behavior last evening. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up when you did. And letting me stay here…well, I really appreciate it. I'm sorry for any inconvenience."

Her tone was sincere and he knew that she meant what she said. Jimmy also knew that there was more coming and he stole her line, "…but you gotta be somewhere. It's okay. You don't hafta explain, I get it." He felt a bit relieved that she would be on her way, but at the same time he already missed her and the sadness showed in his eyes.

She smoothed her bangs out of her face. There was something about him, something she couldn't quite place but it touched her nonetheless. She wanted to continue the conversation. She was late anyway so why not?

"I was supposed to speak at the New Jersey State Bar Association conference this morning," she volunteered, looking down at her perfectly manicured fingernails. "Stacey Edwards…humpf", she shook her head ruefully.

"Who's Stacey Edwards?"

Reese let the iPhone comment go, but now she was starting to think maybe he lived under a rock. "Stacey Edwards…the most hated woman in America. I was part of the defense team that got her acquitted. Guess that makes me the second most hated woman in America," she smiled wryly.

"_That's right_," he remembered. She mentioned at the bar that she was an attorney, but he assumed it was the alcohol talking. "What'd she do?" he asked curiously.

This was getting absurd yet Reese got the impression that he wasn't teasing her. Rather, she surmised that he honestly wasn't up-to-date on the case. It happened, she rationalized.

"She was accused of killing her baby," she replied matter-of-factly.

Jimmy was speechless. Hadn't she told him earlier that her own child was gone? He thought of Tommy and would he would do if anything ever happened to him.

"I know…it's heinous. Almost unthinkable," she said. "But she was raped by her stepfather when she was only seventeen. Ugh…it must've been horrible for her. I can't even imagine what that does to a person. And thanks to you I don't have to," she smiled at him gratefully.

"Anyway, we framed the defense around that. The prosecutor was overzealous and pushing for murder one. Honestly, if they were going for manslaughter we would have lost. But they had to prove intent and that's where we had the upper hand. Stacey's a train-wreck, clearly not a stable individual, so we couldn't let her testify on her own behalf. We didn't plea insanity, but we had to make her at least appear _somewhat_ sympathetic to the jury. She underwent extensive psychiatric treatment during lock-up and we lined up expert after expert on her behalf. She was diagnosed with everything from post traumatic stress disorder to borderline schizophrenia. In the end, all we had to raise was reasonable doubt that her actions weren't premeditated. That, as awful as it was that she'd killed her own flesh and blood, it was done in the heat of the moment and she had no clue what she was actually doing."

He said nothing, and took it all in. She misread his silence as judgment.

"You think I'm horrible, don't you?" She questioned meekly, not really wanting him to answer her.

"No. That's not what I was thinking at all," Jimmy met her eye and they shared another moment.

"This is a great location," she said of the house in an effort to change the subject to something lighter. "Is this still AC?"

"Marven Gardens," he nodded.

She smiled widely. "That's a square on the Monopoly board. Where are we really?"

"I just told ya," he grinned slightly then was serious again. "The location," he sighed, "the view's nice but…it's not…". "_Safe,"_ he wanted to say but refrained.

"It's not what?"

"Nothin', never mind," he pouted, his tone somber. "I made a speech once. My hands were shakin' the whole time." He took his cigarettes out of his pocket, as if it still made him nervous just thinking about it. "Where'd you go to law school?" he asked, lighting one.

"Nova," she answered proudly.

"Villanova?" Jimmy didn't think they accepted women.

"Go Wildcats!" Reese giggled playfully, tilting her head to the side and waving an imaginary pom-pom in her hand like a cheerleader. "I paid for school myself. Went to community college for two years before transferring to Rutgers for undergrad," she added, quite pleased with herself.

He grinned. _Is she still drunk? _Villanova was one thing- he wasn't sure of their admissions process- but Rutgers…he knew they didn't allow women to attend.

"What about you?"

"I went to Princeton for a year. Then the War came…" It was so complicated. Even now, he couldn't reconcile everything that had happened. It was like a run-away train that he couldn't get off. "France," was all he could manage.

"Oh," she said quietly. She was expecting to hear Iraq or Afghanistan, but could tell from his expression that it wasn't something he liked to talk about so she didn't press it. Although he sat a few feet away from her, she could feel him stiffen up again; the tension in the room almost as thick as it had been earlier when his mother walked in on them.

"Well, I suppose I should be getting back to the hotel," she mused.

"I can give ya a lift," Jimmy offered.

"I don't want to impose anymore than I already have."

"It's no trouble," he assured her.

"Okay," she smiled, pleased to be spending even a just few more minutes with him.

Jimmy limped towards the far end of the room and opened the closet. He got out a fresh shirt, along with the vest and jacket that matched his trousers. He held his own garments in one hand, then went over to chair that held Reese's clothing, picking it up with the other before padding back to the bed.

"Here you go."

Their fingers brushed and he felt a shock go through him. Jimmy knew she must've felt it too by the look on her face. "_Stop it," _he told himself._ "Just drop her off and go see your son." _But he was frozen in place which didn't occur to himuntil she twirled her index finger motioning for him to turn around so she could change.

"Sorry…" he murmured. "I'm gonna freshen up down the hall, I'll meetcha by the front door?" She nodded in agreement and he turned for the door.

"Jimmy?" she said sweetly. He stopped and looked over his left shoulder, a few stray hairs lingering next to his temple. Reese couldn't help but notice a jagged scar along the sides and back of his ribcage. She shuddered; thinking that whatever caused it must have been very sharp and painful. "Thanks again."

Words didn't seem to be enough for saving her life, but they would have to do. He seemed to understand perfectly, and semi-smiled back at her giving a slight nod before quitting the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Jimmy hastily pulled himself together in the hall bathroom, bewildered at how even just the slightest touch from her left him reeling. His cheeks were burning, his heart racing so he splashed cold water on his face. He didn't want to keep her waiting so he'd have to forgo shaving that day. He certainly could have done his grooming earlier, but he told her that he would be there when she got up from her nap and didn't want to go back on his word. What he refused to acknowledge was how much he enjoyed watching her sleep. How he wanted to curl up next to her and stay there all day, even if all they did was talk. He looked at his reflection in the oval mirror above the sink, and knew he wasn't alone in the small room.

"I _know_. I'm sorry…you know I am."

His hands were shaking, but he managed to button his shirt and vest and fasten his tie. Maybe it would be easier if he approached like a job. He took a deep breath, then another. He clenched his jaw and looked resolutely back at himself. "_Now go to work_," he thought, wishing Richard was there with him.

Reese was in the foyer waiting as he slowly made his way down the hall, her hands in front of her holding the handles of her huge bag. From what she saw, the rest of the house was just as charming as the bedroom; the walls covered in slightly worn bead-board paneling and the most of the furniture antique or possibly replicas. "_Please don't be gay_," she found herself wishing, but his appearance didn't quell her suspicions. Not that he looked horrible, quite the contrary, his three-piece suit fit him perfectly however she couldn't help but think it was a bit formal- some of the senior partners at the firm didn't even dress that well.

"Ready?" he asked as he opened the front door for her and put his hat on.

She went out and he followed, locking it behind them. She stood on the top step admiring the view of the beach before them and taking in the fresh sea air. Jimmy hobbled down the stairs and now Reese followed, not sure where they were going, her heels sinking further into the sand and gravel of the horse-shoe driveway with every step. She was more than a little surprised, disturbed even, when he stopped next to a black classic car and opened the passenger door for her.

_"I should have known he was too good to be true,"_ she thought as she tried to put the pieces together in her head. She met him at an underground club, he collected antiques-including the vehicle, had never heard of a cell phone, and dressed like a gangster. Something was very wrong with this picture and she was afraid to get in.

"You know, it's a lovely day," she said cheerfully, not wanted to offend him, "I think I'll just walk back to the Revel."

"Where's that?"

"On the Boardwalk," she smiled politely.

"You're gonna walk three miles in those shoes?" He grinned and she almost lost all her senses.

"What's with the Al Capone routine?" It popped out before she could censor herself.

"You know Al?" he asked pensively, still standing next to the open car door.

"Um, with all due respect Jimmy, do _you_ know him?" she countered. This just kept getting weirder and weirder and she was almost afraid of what he'd say next.

"We go back a few years," he muttered evasively, his hand in his pocket reaching for his cigarettes.

Reese wasn't quite sure how to respond. As an attorney she was trained to weigh the pros and cons of every situation and couldn't help but try to see things from his point of view. He'd mentioned being in the military, it obviously distressed him. But something told her there was more to it than that. "_He's broken_," the wind seemed to whisper and she felt a chill that was more than just the autumn air. He was kind and decent- she knew it from the way that he looked at her when she spoke about Charlotte. Maybe this was his warped way of working through whatever it was that troubled him so. Despite the plates on the Jag, she certainly wasn't 'Miss Perfect' herself. Who was she to judge?

"So, how do you know him?" he asked again.

"I'm a defense attorney, remember?"

He nodded in acknowledgement and Reese finally got into the car.

Jimmy and Reese drove in silence along the desolate beach road. She looked out the window at the dunes. She grew up in southern New Jersey, and had been coming to the shore for years yet nothing looked familiar. Gone were the massive beachfront McMansions, sandcastles built by One-Percenters like her former in-laws. It was strange to her, but she was so wrapped up in the events of the last twenty-four hours that she also failed to notice the change in the city's skyline ahead of them. When she did face forward, she merely attributed the difference to the cloud cover that had rolled in off the ocean.

The quiet was deafening, but she didn't want to break it. She'd said too much already. In fact, she'd never opened up to anyone the way she did with Jimmy. She completely let her guard down. It frightened her but it didn't matter. In a few minutes it would all be over and they could go their separate ways.

Jimmy had the window cracked and was smoking again. He felt like he'd done something wrong, said something that offended her but he didn't know what. He pursed his lips between drags, all the while gripping the steering wheel tighter subconsciously. Thoughts of Al brought back memories of Chicago and Pearl, and he glanced over at Reese, checking himself. He put the people around him in danger, but she wouldn't be around for very much longer so there was no real cause for concern.

But there was a hunger inside him. It had been mounting since their hands touched. It grew stronger and stronger, and Jimmy drove faster and faster, not sure how much longer he would be able to ignore it. He hadn't been with anyone since Angela- he couldn't. He had needs but he wouldn't allow himself any pleasures. How could he indulge now when he'd treated her so horribly for so long? It just wasn't right. But the yearning was intense and he swallowed hard. He was on fire, almost to the point that it hurt, and it occurred to him that he hadn't felt that way since the night he'd _returned_ from Chicago. A part of him wanted to just pull over and take her right there but he cleared his throat instead.

"Where you stayin' again?" he asked. As the words came out it almost sounded like someone else's voice but he needed another reminder that she would soon be gone. It was the only thing that would dull the aching and he was becoming desperate.

"The Revel. It's on the Boardwalk between Metropolitan and New Jersey."

He raised an eyebrow but she didn't notice. Jimmy knew the Boardwalk like the back of his hand and that wasn't what stood between those cross streets. All at once he felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach, recalling that the photographer's old studio-now converted to a deli-was at the top of the ramp leading up from Metropolitan. _Of all the places in the world…_

"You sure about that?" he questioned, hoping he'd heard wrong.

"Yep," she replied, holding out a business card.

They were stopped at a traffic light and he looked over at the address listed. She wasn't mistaken but it didn't make sense. He'd been planning on letting her out at the curb, then heading back to the mansion to spend the rest of the day with Tommy. Having hardly seen the child the previous day, it was the only thing keeping him going. The light changed and Jimmy drove forward, heading a few blocks north before making the right turn onto Metropolitan. He wasn't sure what to do, and hated feeling that way. The car finally rolled to a stop and he parked about twenty feet from the ramp.

"Why are you stopping here?" Reese asked, looking around.

"Metropolitan and the Boardwalk," he shrugged. It was all he could muster.

Reese gulped. He didn't appear to be kidding. Aside from noticing the absence of waterfront properties, she hadn't really been paying attention. She'd been too busy rehearsing her good-bye speech. It was only now that she noticed the other cars on the road and how they all looked very much like his. Much in the same way everyone at Joe's was dressed in vintage garb except herself. Here she had been surreptitiously questioning him for retreating into the past, when all the while it was she that didn't fit in. Her heart was racing as she looked at the storefronts along the sidewalk and the people passing by. Women in long skirts and hats- all of them- boys in jeff-caps, men in derbys or fedoras like her new friend. "The key to your future lies in the past…" _Madame Celeste_. Panic set in and Reese found she couldn't breathe. Her green eyes wide, she looked vulnerably at Jimmy, searching him for answers.

He was expecting some confusion on her part, but hadn't anticipated she'd be so upset. She'd been tearful that morning and it really got to him, touched him in a place within himself that he didn't know still existed. Her eyes were hazel, with light brown and gold flecks shining around her pupils. Jimmy thought they were beautiful, even through the tears. But now they were fixed on him, pulling him in just when he'd come to terms with letting her go. She was nearly turning blue when he found the nerve to speak.

"Breathe, Reese. Come on, you gotta breathe," he said, using his soft voice with her. "Lemme help you," he continued, taking her soft hands and putting them against his own chest. It was electric, even with the three layers of clothing he had on, and he felt the hairs on his neck stand up. But this wasn't about him. "Relax," he said both to her and to himself. "Breathe in," he inhaled and held it a moment. "And out. Good. Now, again. That's a good girl." He locked eyes with her, took one of his hands and gently brushed her bangs away from her face.

It was a technique he'd learned in a trench right after he'd made his first kill. He was beside himself, shaking and crying and puking for nearly two whole days; wishing he was dead too. He just couldn't pull it together and they were preparing for another raid when one of the commanding officers took pity on him which was both a blessing and curse. At the moment he was glad to be able to share it and it seemed to be working, her chest rising and falling with his, her color returning. Jimmy raked his brain, trying not to think about it in any other context but it was difficult not to.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

"I'm lost," she choked. "I'm so lost…"

"It's alright. We'll figure it out," he found himself saying. _We?_ Still, he wasn't sorry he said it. "Where are you s'posed to be?"

"Not where…" she paused, not sure how to proceed. _When_. "Jimmy, this is going to sound crazy. I know it, believe me I know it but…" she bit her lower lip. She took another breath and continued, "Look, I have to ask you something. What…what year is it?"

"1922."

She nodded solemnly as if that wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Do you remember where you were before Joe's? Let's start there and work our way backwards."

"I, um…I was on the Boardwalk. I…" she looked away, feeling foolish. "I had my fortune told," she muttered.

"At the Palmist?" Jimmy inquired, his mother having frequented the place while he was Over There.

"Yes!" Reese squealed, relieved to hear something remotely familiar.

"Then I guess we'll be paying Madame Celeste a little visit," he grinned.


	8. Chapter 8

Reese followed Jimmy up onto the Boardwalk as he led the way towards the psychic's store front. Clack, clack, clack. She never asked about his leg, nor did he complain, but she could tell he was struggling. Between her shoes and his limping, they made quite a pair. Thankfully, it was just a few shops from the corner. He held the door for her and the two went in.

"Reese McManus Forrester." Madame Celeste purred as she approached them. Reese was amazed that she looked exactly the same. The medium nodded at Jimmy and added, "I see you went to Joe's. Very good."

"_Not_ very good!" Reese countered. "Do you know what year it is!? Do you?"

All this talk about the calendar year was leaving Jimmy confused. Reese seemed almost obsessed with it, but he was afraid she'd have another panic attack so he kept his mouth shut.

"Whatever you did, undo it. Send me home. Send me back, now!" she begged. "I have a life…," but as soon as Reese said it she knew it wasn't true so she quickly added, "I have clients! …A law practice to run…"

"All in due time, child."

"Why do you keep saying that? Why did you do this to me?"

"Not me…"

"Oh, that's right, I forgot. Your 'friend'. Well guess what?" Reese started, fiddling to take off her bracelet, "Tell her she can keep her stupid bracelet. I don't want it; as if I needed a reminder."

"Calm down, child. Sit," the other woman motioned. She took the bracelet back and laid it flat across the tablecloth, the name it bore glaring up at Reese.

"I don't think so. I have to get home. _Please,_" Reese tried a more emotional approach this time, "I don't fit in here. _Look_ at me!" she waved her arm towards her apparel, the epitome of well put-together circa 2012 but, at best, clownish given the current period.

Madame Celeste nodded at her in understanding. Then, she turned to Jimmy, who was lingering by the door. "You are involved now, yes?"

_No. _The word was stuck in his jugular, as if his brain and vocal chords couldn't seem to agree. He opened his mouth and found himself saying, "Yes…"

"Very good," the psychic smiled and looked back to Reese. "Don't you think you should tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Jimmy asked, intrigued yet guarded.

Reese looked nervous and was biting her lip again. She'd already told him enough and she barely knew him. What if he thought she was crazy? Madame Celeste took charge, sensing her hesitation.

"Why did you go to Joe's?" she asked Reese.

"…'cause you told me to," Reese murmured and looked down. She felt like a child being interrogated at the principal's office.

"And you?" the medium continued, eyeing Jimmy.

"I…dunno."

"Yes you do…" Madame Celeste pressed him, and Jimmy stifled a cough. Reese peered over at him through her lashes. He looked as uncomfortable as she did. _He's been so sweet, why are you doing this to him? _She silently cursed Madame Celeste for being so condescending.

"Ah...there it is," the older woman smiled deviously at Reese.

"What?" she replied.

"You are loyal to a fault, child. That is one of the reasons you were chosen."

_Oh my God. She can read my mind…_

"Yes, I can," Madame Celeste confirmed, "his too. Now, tell him where you're from. Do not fear."

"Can ya not talk about me when I'm standin' right here?" Jimmy interjected. He was getting really frustrated now. _This is the thanks I get for tryin' to do the right thing._ What did he get himself into?

"Patience, Mr. Darmody. Go on, child…"

"I'm not…from around here," Reese began pensively.

"I kinda figured that," Jimmy replied, his tone light.

"And where are you from…" the medium coaxed.

"2012," Reese whispered, wishing there was a rock she could crawl under. She couldn't even bring herself to look at him.

Jimmy said nothing in response. He subconsciously drew his left hand up to his chin, and bit the knuckle on his index finger, like he always did when he was thoughtful. At 24, he'd lived through a lot. In fact, he thought he'd be dead by this point but Fate obviously had other plans. _It's not possible…_ Still, it certainly explained a lot. He felt a firmness on his left shoulder, a hand gently squeezing his too tight muscle yet no one was there. He tried to convince himself that it was just his nerves, a residual from his wound that never quite healed properly. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, turning his head towards the window and the Boardwalk. He replayed everything in his mind from her clothes to her hair and her gadgets to her education and career. Everything was clear when he opened them again.

"So, how does she get home?" he finally asked. Reese was staring over at him in amazement. He met her gaze and gave a slight, resolute nod. _Yes, I believe you._ He was so conflicted. On the one hand, despite how much he was trying to fight it, he felt himself falling for her and that couldn't happen. On the other, she was fragile, and there was a sense of obligation in him to protect her. He couldn't explain it, but he needed _to be_ needed. As if, through helping Reese, he could somehow cross some unknown threshold. Undo _some_ of his past aggressions.

"That is not for me to say," Madame Celeste responded. "She has until the next full moon. All will be revealed in due time."

"That's almost a month from now," Jimmy replied.

Reese looked horrified. "A month?" she gulped, "This is my life you're messing with!"

"You wanted to escape, yes?" the medium asked her rhetorically. "Now is your chance."

"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind," Reese muttered ruefully, thinking about the palm trees on the North Shore.

"Trust," Madame Celeste went on, as she took the bracelet off the table again and reached out for Reese's hand. "She means you no harm."

Reese hadn't trusted anyone or anything in a long time. But she'd trusted Jimmy that morning when he told her to take a nap. "…I'll be here when you wake up…" It was something so simple, said by someone that was practically a total stranger, yet it meant so much. _He hadn't lied…he hadn't lied to me_. It was bittersweet. She took a deep breath and allowed the medium to put her bracelet back on.

"The answers will come," instructed the psychic.

"But what I am supposed to do in the meantime?" Reese asked.

Madame Celeste eyed Jimmy, who was chewing the inside of his cheek, and Reese reluctantly followed her gaze.

"I'll take care of it."


	9. Chapter 9

"First we gotta getcha some new threads," Jimmy said as they left the shop. He knew just where to take her too, and made a right heading south along the Boardwalk towards the Ritz and Madame Jeunet's. He had an account there for his mother, treating Gillian to a new wardrobe seasonally. He figured it was the least he could do for her considering the situation with Tommy, and all that she did for the boy; even acting as both parents to him in those early days when Jimmy just couldn't bring himself to get out of bed.

Clack, clack, clack. Reese marched along beside him, lost in her thoughts. A month in 1922. A whole month. What was she supposed to do with herself? However, she got the impression that the medium meant what she'd said and was acting on someone else's behalf. But who was going to contact her and, more importantly, when?

"… That is one of the reasons you were chosen …" _Chosen for what? _A client maybe? The notorious Mr. Capone? Jimmy supposedly knew him, after all. No, Madame Celeste had clearly used feminine terms. She shook her head. The whole thing was just bizarre.

Clack, clack, clack. Reese could feel the stares and was anxious to change out of her clothes, her shoes in particular. She never thought she'd see the day when she'd curse Manolo Blahnik for his genius. She'd even worn them during her pregnancy. But today was a strange day to say the least. She was relieved when Jimmy stopped outside of one of the large hotels. Again, he opened the door for her and they went into the lobby of the Ritz Carlton. There was a woman's dress shop off to the right and she followed as he shuffled towards it.

She stopped in the hall, while he went inside. La Belle Femme, she read on the sign. The clothing was beautiful, yet clearly expensive. Reese took a mental tally of the amount of cash she had in her wallet. She went to the ATM at the Revel before she'd gone to the spa to make sure she had money for tips and other incidentals, but other than that had planned on using her corporate card for the rest. She had no idea how much she spent at Joe's, but it couldn't have been that much considering the price of the drinks and the fact that most of them were bought by the man in the derby. In all, she had about one hundred dollars on her. While the cost of living was certainly less in 1922, she wasn't sure that would last her all month. It was doubtful she'd be able to find work-especially not in the legal profession- for such a short period of time. Reese resolved that she couldn't afford such fineries when she also had to worry about lodging and food.

Meanwhile, Jimmy was talking to a tall woman by the check- out counter. She smiled and nodded at Reese, giving a subtle wave. "Come in, Cheri," she called in a soft French accent.

Reese forced herself to smile back and slowly made her way into the shop.

"So, you just send me the bill, alright?" he was saying when she finally reached them.

"Of course, Mr. Darmody."

_Geez. How much money does he spend here that she knows his name?_

"And be sure to give my regards to your mother," the French woman added.

Again, she'd misunderstood him. Judged him. _Again._ It was an old habit, Reese told herself, trying to not to feel so guilty. She was so used to people disappointing her that she couldn't help it.

"Can you excuse us a moment?" Reese asked the other woman.

"But of course," she cooed.

"Jimmy, I can't let you do that," Reese started. "Look, I have about a hundred dollars on me. If I spread it out, it should last me, but shopping here…" she looked around them, "…is not within my means," she looked down humbly.

Her cheeks were burning as her stubborn pride reared its ugly head. She thought she was passed it, but it never really went away- the inequity she endured as a child shopping at the Good Will store because her mother couldn't keep a steady job. Sure her ex-husband was wealthy, but that wasn't why she married him. In fact, while she'd initially planned on working for the ACLU after earning her JD, she ultimately opted to pursue criminal defense instead being that it was so lucrative. _No one can label you a gold-digger when you're earning six figures yourself_. At least, that was how she always justified it. She couldn't allow Jimmy to be so generous.

He cupped her chin and drew her head up, looking her in the eye. "Lemme do this for you."

And there it was- the want in him. The vulnerability. The intense yearning for approval. He didn't have to say anymore than that, it was all there in his eyes and Reese knew she couldn't deny him.

"Okay," she yielded. "Thank you." _How many times have I thanked him now? _It almost didn't sound genuine anymore but she meant it from her heart. He just grinned at her and she felt herself becoming unglued. They were so close she wanted to kiss him right there in the middle of the store. But then she remembered it was 1922, and people didn't behave that way. She smiled back graciously and pulled away.

"I gotta make a call," he said, nodding towards the pay phones in the lobby. "Get whatever you want," Jimmy added, loud enough for Madame Jeunet to hear him as he limped away.

The older woman approached Reese and looked her over top-to-bottom, scrutinizing every detail. "Ze jacket?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"It's Chanel," Reese proudly replied.

"Coco?"

"That's the one."

"I see. Mrs. Darmody has good taste, oui?"

_My rings. Shit._

"He's not my…" Reese broke off.

"Ah, say no more," Madame Jeunet smiled, holding up her hand like a stop symbol. "These just came in from Paris," she continued, leading Reese to a rack by the front window.

Reese smiled back, sincerely this time. She felt like Julia Roberts in 'Pretty Woman' and the theme song ran through her mind as she tried on dress after dress. She'd always loved that movie, particularly the ending. She decided it was prudent to wear one of her ensembles out of the store- a pale pink dress with a v-neck adorned with ruffles and a drop waist that fell just passed her knees. Madame Jeunet had shown her a matching hat, and helped her pin her hair up under it. Reese grinned widely at her reflection in the three-sided mirror. She twirled around and giggled.

"_What happens after he climbs up the tower and rescues her? …She rescues him right back_."


	10. Chapter 10

Jimmy closed the door to the phone booth and lowered himself onto the stool inside. As good as it felt to sit down, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to get back up again. On top of it, there were so many thoughts running through his head, Jimmy thought it might just explode.

A month? A lot could happen in a month. Too much had happened already, the logistics alone might kill him. His heart was still pounding from the moment they'd shared in the store and he quickly reminded himself that he shouldn't be sharing moments with anyone. He lost that right a long time ago. Now, he not only had to protect her from himself, but he also had to figure out how to protect her from others.

_Tommy… _How to explain _that _situation. He couldn't introduce her to his son; that might confuse the child. But how could he keep them separate? The answer was in the question itself- _keep them separate_. He'd need Richard's help to pull it off, but it certainly wasn't the worst thing he'd asked his friend to do for him. He sat there a long time before picking up the phone.

"Put Richard on," Jimmy barked into the receiver.

"I see your mood hasn't improved," his mother answered.

"Just put him on the phone, Ma."

He could feel her rolling her eyes at him on the other end of the line. He heard a shuffling, then the sound of his friend drawing a breath. Jimmy knew that speaking caused him pain on occasion, so he usually kept their discussions to the point unless he was really intoxicated. _It's just another job._ That logic had helped him earlier, so he decided to stick with it.

"Richard?" he asked.

"Mmhhp. Yes."

"Can you meet me at the beach house?"

His friend recognized that tone of voice all too well. "Sure."

Jimmy felt the tightness in his chest go away as he hung up. He could do this. He _would_ do this. He'd certainly survived worse than thirty days with a beautiful woman. _A beautiful woman that you can't touch. _If he had to remind himself a hundred times a day, then that's what he'd do.

"I know, Ange, _I know_. I won't. I promise."

A knock on the door outside startled him. Seeing that he'd finished his call, another man was waiting to use the phone and growing increasingly impatient. Normally this would agitate Jimmy to no end, patience never being one of his strong suits. But today…today he was so emotionally and physically drained he just didn't have it in him. He met the man's gaze and tried to pull himself up. As he did a shock went down his leg, almost bringing him to his knees. It was hot and burning, and Jimmy squeezed his eyes closed. He steadied himself and opened the door and he limped out of the booth.

Jimmy was still looking down, his hat low and covering his eyes. The pain was so all encompassing that he almost walked right past Reese.

"Ahem," she smirked.

When he finally glanced up he was breathless, though this time not from his injury. This was going to be the longest month of his life.


	11. Chapter 11

Reese blushed deeply. She obviously caught him off guard, and was secretly pleased with herself. As strange as it was to be trapped in another time, the shock was wearing off. She felt safe with him. It went against everything she tried so desperately to forget, but it was a good feeling nonetheless.

It was well into the afternoon, and they hadn't eaten anything since that morning. That's when it dawned on her that she'd monopolized almost his entire day. She didn't want to be a burden, but he didn't seem to mind. She still had to figure out where she'd be staying, but first she wanted to do something nice for him.

"Are you hungry?" she asked politely. There was a restaurant across from the dress shop. The very least she could do was treat him to lunch.

"Nah. We should get back to the house," Jimmy replied. He was exhausted all of a sudden. He wasn't used to being out and about during the day and it was starting to catch up with him. The throbbing in his leg intensified, but, as he did with Tommy, he was trying his best not to let it show. But Reese was more astute than the adoring child, and noticed it right away as he leaned over, extending a hand to carry her many shopping bags.

"I can get them," she insisted. _We?_ She noticed that, too.

They reached the doors leading out to the Boardwalk. He opened one and, as was becoming the usual, let her go first. Reese hadn't really been paying attention after they left the Palmist, but she knew that the car wasn't exactly close by. She pursed her lips, pondering what to do without offending him, when the rolling chairs caught her eye. The off season could be brutal, and several empty chairs were lined up in front of the hotel, the chauffeurs standing around aimlessly chatting and smoking while they waited for a customer. Reese flashed her brightest smile and waved, trying not to look too amused as they fell all over themselves as to who would get the work, and then turned to her friend.

"My treat?" she said innocently. "Stupid shoes I was wearing…," she rolled her eyes at her own folly, "Not sensible at all, but most of the time I'm in my office sitting down."

Reese climbed into the chair without waiting for his response and Jimmy slid in next to her, while the chauffeur piled the packages behind them. There was a cold wind blowing off the ocean, and she huddled closer to him. They rolled along in silence; each pondering what was in store for them next. They approached Metropolitan, and she signaled that was their stop. She paid the fare, and they walked back to the car. Not wanting to embarrass him, she tried to match her pace with his, but it was growing slower and slower. She could tell it was an effort, and couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible. They finally reached the car and she could feel his relief. He opened the passenger door for her, then the trunk to load her belongings. The practical side of her wished they'd discussed possible boardinghouses for her while they were in the rolling chair, while another side resolved that she couldn't go anywhere until she knew for sure he was alright-which he clearly wasn't at the moment.

_Just go back to the house…make sure he's situated…then call a cab and be on your way. _

"Did ya get everything you needed?" Jimmy asked as they were turning off of Metropolitan and back onto the road leading back to the house. He had one hand on the steering wheel, the other fishing around in his pocket for his cigarettes trying to get one out while he kept his eyes on the road.

"Yes, thank you. Again," her cheeks reddened so she looked away from him and out the window. "I'm terribly sorry for being such a nuisance."

Jimmy waved his hand as if it were no trouble then took a long drag. "Stop sayin' you're sorry. You didn't do anything wrong, did ya?"

"Oh, sorry," she murmured, shaking her head as she realized she'd said it again. He glanced over at her and shook his head too; smoke exhaling as he suppressed a chuckle.

There was a time he would have taken great pride in throwing caution-and money- to the wind, indulging in fineries just because he finally could. Trying to prove to the world that he'd found his niche, made something of himself. _The Grand Pooh-Bah_. Mickey called him that despite the little incident at Babette's. Everyone knew who was in charge and he relished in flaunting it; failing all the while to realize that the only thing he really needed was something money couldn't buy. Something that he already had, but took for granted. His inheritance-however illegitimate- certainly made his life easier, but he was more prudent with expenditures than he ever was a year or two earlier. His only comfort being that Tommy would have a better life than he had.

Jimmy sighed. Despite his leg, he was going to make it up to the boy for not spending time with him the previous day. He was anxious to get back to the beach house to discuss the particulars with Richard. If nothing else, having a house guest would force him to keep to a more regular schedule and thus, in turn, give him more time with his son. Soon they reached the gravel driveway. Jimmy expected his friend would already be there, but didn't see his car. It was unlike him, but Jimmy didn't give it too much thought; he had enough to think about already.

He got out of the car, and hobbled over to Reese's side to let her out. He was such an anomaly; sweet and chivalrous yet obviously wanting to be perceived as a tough guy. "_I'm totally onto you," _she thought as he took her hand and she exited the vehicle. He went around to the back, got her shopping bags, and the two entered the house.

Reese lingered by the front door, while Jimmy took her things into the bedroom. She was puzzled. She couldn't possibly stay there and put him to any more trouble, but the words wouldn't come. She regarded him thoughtfully as he exited the room; his strong hand on the doorframe as if to hold himself up. He was looking down at his feet, a few stray tendrils falling forward around his eyes. When he did glance up, he almost looked like a different person- pale and clearly worn out. Reese recalled that, while she'd eaten some of her breakfast, he didn't partake and she wondered if he had anything at all in his stomach. _Who are you kidding… you're not going anywhere_.

"You should keep it elevated." It wasn't any of her business, but she couldn't stop herself.

"Yeah, I know," he replied, sounding child-like.

She found herself walking toward him, almost as if being pulled. She reached out and took his bicep, gently tugging in the direction of the nearby sun room. He shuddered at the touch and she second guessed herself. _Oh God, he finds me repulsive_. That wasn't the impression she got from him earlier, and she wondered what had changed besides the fact that she apparently had the bizarre ability to time travel. But then Jimmy looked at her thankfully and she felt reassured.

Slowly but surely, they made their way into the next room, and he gingerly lowered himself down onto the couch, his back propped against the end cushion and his legs out in front of him. His skin was clammy despite the little exertion and Reese was concerned. He knew far more about her than she did about him. What if he had diabetes or another serious medical condition? A person's health was a delicate subject, but he was suffering and she wanted desperately to help him any way she could.

She gathered a few throw pillows from some neighboring chairs, putting two under his right leg and another behind his neck, while he loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. He drew his right hand behind his head, his left resting across his abdomen. His lids were heavy and he looked as if he could fall asleep at any moment.

_She touched you_. Jimmy tried to convince himself that there was a distinction; that he hadn't broken his only rule in less than a mere five minutes, but there was no difference in the way it made him feel- pleasure and pain simultaneously to the point that he wanted to cry out for more but he didn't dare.

"Thanks," he mustered.

"Where's the kitchen? I can get you some ice for that leg, maybe a sandwich too?"

"Back of the house…the ice box is on the left," he winced, "should be some cold cuts in there…pantry's on the right." He slowly turned his head toward her, but she was already gone.

Most of his symptoms were psychosomatic, but Jimmy didn't understand that. He held all of his tension in his bad leg, and while it always seemed to act up at the worst possible times, he was never able to put it all together. Never able to see that he was punishing himself, sometimes-such as this- for situations where he'd done no wrong. Yet he'd committed so many other atrocities what did it matter? The pain was excruciating, but it usually brought with it a release after a certain point... at least until it returned again.

But Jimmy couldn't dwell on it long because he heard a blood curling scream come from the back of the house. He'd heard screams before, mostly _hers_ but sometimes his own if he was loud enough and happened to wake himself from whatever nightmare he was having. Tired as he was, his adrenalin kicked in and he reached the kitchen doorway within a few strides.

Reese had her back pressed against the door to the pantry; her arms up above her head and shaking, her terrified eyes on Jimmy. He had his suspicions as to what might have startled her. She was so afraid that she couldn't speak, only able to glance slowly in front of her and give a slight nod across the room.

Jimmy had never actually seen her, but that didn't mean she wasn't there. Far be it for him to judge who she revealed herself to, although he wished on countless occasions that she'd shown herself to him. _Just once. Please._ He'd begged, and cried, and thrown things about the room but he could never get her full attention. _But _y_ou never had her full attention you fool…_He took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself as best he could as he followed Reese's haunted stare.

"Richard!?" He was surprised and relieved at the same time. "Put the gun down, that's not why I called you."

"But you said…"

His friend was perplexed. He'd thought he understood Jimmy's tone perfectly. With the exception of Nucky, he never out-right gave an order. It was always implied. Having only half his sight left, Richard had to rely on his other senses and he was usually quite good at it. He'd never read Jimmy wrong before. Never. He looked at his friend and could feel his anxiety- beads of cold sweat gathering at Jimmy's hairline, his chest working hard after running through the house. He was disoriented. That was it, Richard convinced himself. He was clearly not himself. Perhaps he'd been drinking or worse. The other man sighed in determination and held his mark.

Jimmy approached him with caution. The same way he did years back when hunting with Nucky and they'd brought down a buck but not enough to kill it. He stretched out his hands in front of him, his eyes locked on his friend.

"It's okay," he said softly, stepping in front of Reese. _You'll have to take me before you take her._ "Richard, it's okay. I need your help. I called because I need your help with somethin'." He reached his dear friend and put his hands down on the barrel of the shotgun.

"Why is. She here?"

_Damn it Richard_. Explaining the circumstances- the time travel, the full moon, the clandestine rescue from Mickey- was not what Jimmy planned on doing at gunpoint. It was strange enough to him, yet he knew it to be true. But Richard…sometimes, he still didn't know what he was thinking. Was he defending Angela's memory or, being that it was such a rarity, merely embarrassed at their misunderstanding?

"I'll tell ya. I promise I will, but you gotta put the gun down. C'mon pal…"

Jimmy pressed gently against the weapon, pushing it down. He flinched; his heart almost stopping as he prayed it wouldn't go off. It was a significant moment to say the least- the first time he'd been on the other end of a gun and actually wanted to live. No, the first time _since college_ that he wanted to live. Just then, a strong wind blew open the kitchen door, taking them all by surprise. Jimmy seized the opportunity to grab the barrel and wrestle it away as a forlorn Richard hung his head.


	12. Chapter 12

The group returned to the sun room a few minutes later. Reese was still shaking, but she tried to shrug it off. Clearly the other man thought she was an intruder…he was being protective, of what she didn't know yet. The men sat down, but she leaned against the window, eyeing a pair of gulls enviously as they soared over the sea. How wonderful it would be if she could just fly away too.

"Reese, this is Richard Harrow. He's my best friend," Jimmy started. He was on the couch again, but sitting more upright this time, a large ice-pack wrapped in a dish cloth over his right knee. "Richard, this is Reese…"

_McManus_. No, she couldn't go back to her maiden name. It wasn't even her father's surname, it was her mother's. Maggie was never quite sure who her father was.

_Forrester._ No, she couldn't use that either. She thought she'd initially keep it for business purposes but every time she'd introduced herself she felt a lump in her throat and she feared it would never go away. Using her left thumb, she fiddled with her rings subconsciously at the thought of her practically finalized divorce. _You were never a Forrester and they always made sure that you knew that_. The name was always on loan, something she should have realized the moment she signed the pre-nup.

"Just Reese," she said quietly, slowing turning from the window and regarding the man who'd just tried to kill her. Her eyes were wide and fearful, her lips in a full pout as she tried her best not to cry. "Hi…" she forced a smile, trying to make the other gentleman feel more at ease than she was feeling. He was Jimmy's friend, after all.

Without knowing much, Reese got a very different vibe about their relationship than she had when she'd met his mother. The other man was slender, a bit taller than Jimmy, and probably a little older as well- although still in his 20's. In contrast to Jimmy's meticulous appearance earlier, Richard wore a simple brown tweed suit, and coordinating cap over his dark brown hair. He wore gold wire-frame glasses, which were holding a flesh-colored mask over half of his face. Reese assumed- albeit somewhat correctly- that Jimmy's wounds were related to his military service and that this gentleman possibly served as well. Her heart ached at the thought the sacrifices they made for the country. He had an olive green eye that he wouldn't take off of her, regarding her as some type of enemy. It made her very nervous, but then she reminded herself that he probably had to endure some terrible stares at his own expense and maybe he was just used to having his guard up at all times.

"Reese, can you excuse us a few minutes?" Jimmy asked.

She looked puzzled.

"I put your bags in the bedroom," he continued, sensing her confusion. They hadn't been back at the house very long, and she'd seen him do so. However, he rationalized, that was also _before_ she'd had a gun pulled on her. _Two guns in two days_.

"Oh…right," she replied, still slightly hesitating.

"Half the closet's empty-should be plenty of room. I'll move my stuff later, but you can lay it out on the bed if you have to."

He burned Angela's clothing. All of it. His weekend at Princeton spent in such a haze that he hadn't really dealt with the fact that she wasn't alone when she died and he flew into a jealous fit of rage upon finally coming back to the house. He built a bonfire on the beach using entirely too many logs-the flames could be seen for miles down the coast and far out at sea. _How could she?_ The more humiliated he felt, the more he doused the kindling with gasoline, Richard holding him back for fear that he'd throw himself in as well. Al was there too, but other than that Jimmy didn't really remember what happened that night. He awoke the next morning collapsed on the beach- sand everywhere- smelling horribly of sweat, whiskey, piss, and vomit.

The embers were smoldering, but the catharsis wasn't even close to being over. A few days later, or maybe it was weeks- he'd lost track of all time and didn't really know- he would have given anything to have saved at least something of hers. He coddled her pillow at night, the only item left that remotely smelled like her. Not just her perfume, but _her; _that perfect mix of soap and paint and Tommy and perfume. He held it as tight as he could, burying his face in it so she was as close to his nose as possible, wanting all the while to suffocate but, despite his best efforts he still had that gut-instinct reaction of pulling it away and gasping for air just as he was about to pass out. But then one day, it didn't smell like her anymore- it only smelled like him and it was like losing her all over again.

Jimmy told Richard the entire story while Reese unpacked. It sounded completely far-fetched, but he had to convince his friend that it was true. Richard was the only person he trusted. The other man remained silent, regarding him in a way Jimmy couldn't read and he didn't like that feeling.

"You shoulda seen what she was wearin'," Jimmy smiled, trying to keep it light. He was smoking and took a drag. "Skirt showed her knees. _Her knees_. And her shoes…whew," he shook his head, "never seen anything like 'em…not even at the Deuces."

"You seem. To like. Her knees. A little. Too much."

Jimmy chewed the inside of his cheek and glared at him. So this _was_ about Angela. He slightly shook his head. He'd never forget her. He felt horrible about having Reese there but he couldn't let her stay anywhere else. Something wouldn't let him. He reminded himself that he didn't choose this. _You didn't walk away either_. He sighed heavily.

"Richard," he said quietly, gazing out the window on his right. His friend knew that tone. There was no miscommunication this time. This was killing him. Richard had seen him go through so much agony that he wasn't sure he could do it again; just sit back and say nothing while everything crumbled around him. He'd done that before and the end result was disastrous. Jimmy needed him, and he wanted to believe what he'd said. He really wanted to, but there was still the possibility that his friend had finally reached a point where he was just completely delusional. What if this girl was taking advantage of him? For the right price, the psychic could be in on it, too.

"You know she's still here," Jimmy continued. "You believe _that_, right?"

"Yes."

Angela _was_ still there. Richard found her presence comforting whereas the other man was painfully haunted. She watched over him but not for the reasons that Jimmy thought- she meant him no harm. It wasn't her nature in life, and Richard knew with certainty that it wasn't her nature in death either.

* * *

Jimmy had a death wish early on, maybe all along if Richard were really being honest. He'd made peace with it that stormy night. Promised his dear friend that he'd try to come home, that being Jimmy's last and final request. Watched with his heart in his throat as Jimmy walked out the door, never expecting to see him again.

But then he came back, the Irishman dumping him on the steps like he was a newspaper. Tommy was sleeping and his mother was upstairs. Richard didn't care for Gillian, but he'd never forget the look on her face when she saw him. The relief washed over her and she burst into tears. She was twisted- there was no denying it- but she loved him with an intensity that Richard didn't quite understand.

Jimmy was soaked through and through, hypothermic and so in shock he was practically incoherent. He trembled violently as Richard helped him into the great room and onto a chair. He couldn't tell if Jimmy were injured physically, saw no blood, but still inspected him closer; peeling off his saturated clothing piece by piece. It clung to him, and Jimmy mewled softly with each item removed as if it were hurting him.

"Mmhhp. What happened?" He asked as he draped him in a throw from the nearby chaise.

"Wwwasn't. Llloaded." Jimmy managed, his head lolling backwards, too heavy for him to hold up on his own.

Nucky wasn't that forgiving. After everything that happened, there was only one end-game. And that was when Richard knew that she'd intervened.

* * *

"Jimmy?"

His friend was still gazing at the sea, smoke swirling around his head. He swallowed and Richard could see his Adam's apple bobbing. Jimmy turned his head and met his stare. The look in his eye reminded Richard of the day that they met at the hospital. He said nothing, but he didn't have to.

"I believe you."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Many thanks for all of the kind reviews. Your kindness is overwhelming :)**

Reese tried to gain a sense of her new surroundings. The full size bed was smaller than the king she was used to at home, but she'd been sleeping alone for months now so what was the difference? She'd slept quite well in it the previous night, and her morning nap was just as refreshing. She plopped down on it and looked around.

Jimmy put her packages on the floor in front of the closet. Reese eyed them thoughtfully. As she was looking down, she noticed the rug that was under her belongings. When she looked closer she could tell that it wasn't a rug, really, but what appeared to be a left-over piece of carpeting, the edges jagged and hastily cut. It didn't match the rest of the décor, but she attributed that to his being a bachelor, assuming that his strangely overprotective mother was responsible for the rest of the house.

Still, it was so out of place that she couldn't take her eyes off it. There was another door to the left of the closet. It was slightly ajar and, while the lights were turned off, Reese could see that it was a bathroom. The carpet stretched all the way from the far side of the bathroom door to the middle of the closet, almost like a runner. _Men…who puts a runner horizontally? Ugh, and why that_ _one? _

Reese was becoming fixated on it, and stood up to get a better look. She bent down and moved her bags to the side, not realizing that the room had grown colder until she saw her breath vaporizing in front of her. _That's strange_. But it was an older home (well, _not really, _but certainly by her standards) and not equipped with modern amenities like centralized heat and air conditioning. The radiator was on the other side of the bedroom. Maybe the heat just didn't reach that far? Maybe it wasn't even turned on?

She ran her fingers along the edge of the carpet and that was when she noticed it. A stain. A harsh, splotchy, blackish-purple stain. Reese lifted the rug and could see that it ran the all the way to the bathroom, larger in some places than in others. She felt a chill run down her spine as she inspected it closer. Whatever it was, Jimmy had evidently gone to great lengths to remove it. But there wasn't enough bleach or turpentine in the state to wash it away. It also looked liked he'd tried to sand it out, the floorboards rougher and scratched.

"Reese," he called from the hallway, giving the open bedroom door a slight knock before entering. She nearly jumped out of her skin. "What are you doin'?" Jimmy asked slowly.

The look on his face nearly broke her heart, so hurt and confused. She felt ashamed of herself but didn't know why. She wasn't trying to be nosy. He' shown her such kindness, saved her life _twice now_.

"Um…I just…I don't know," she blushed deeply as she stood up. Reese started to approach him, but he backed away. "Jimmy, I'm sorry…"

Thankfully, he quickly recovered. "It's alright," he shrugged. "I gotta go out for a little while, but Richard's gonna stay here with you."

"That's not really necessary," she replied. Recalling the shotgun, she wasn't exactly thrilled to be alone with him.

"He knows. I told him everything. It's okay," he assured her.

Reese eyed him pensively.

"I wouldn't leave if I thought he'd hurt you. He's here to protect you."

"Jimmy, I'm a grown woman. I don't need a babysitter…I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she said indignantly. _And you've been doing such a great job at that lately. _The smirk he gave her in return affirmed that he'd thought the same thing and she broke into a grin herself.

He turned and shuffled away, leaving Reese alone in the room again.

"Come back soon…" she whispered, and the lights flickered. "Old houses," she mused aloud and went back to her unpacking.

* * *

It took about two weeks for them to fall into a routine. Jimmy usually went out for the day right after Richard arrived and returned in early evening. She assumed he was going to some type of work. He always dressed the part, so she didn't think anything otherwise. Besides that, she was a guest in his home and it would have been rude to ask.

The first few days were a bit awkward. There were no hairdryers in 1922; nor where there straighteners. So, she asked Richard to take her to a drugstore so she could stock up on some basic necessities-a toothbrush, hairbrush, some pretty combs, hairpins, a few headbands, curlers, and rubber bands.

There were also no gyms, treadmills, elliptical machines or stair climbers. She thought of jogging on the beach, but didn't have any suitable attire or footwear. Instead, Reese settled for doing yoga and Pilates in her room before bed; alternating days for each exercise so her body wouldn't get too used to doing the same movements repeatedly.

Food preparation was also something she'd have to adjust to. Jimmy usually woke before her (that is, if he'd even slept), and started the bacon and eggs. _Atkins diet_. She thought it ironic that the doctor received such notoriety for an idea that wasn't even his in the first place. The milk was delivered daily, whole as opposed to skim, but, aside from tap water or alcohol- which he seemed to have _plenty_ of she noticed- there wasn't much else to drink. She quickly learned that produce was bought at the green grocer, meats at the butcher, bread at the bakery- unless you made your own. He had a gas stove and oven, but it took her a while to interpret how accurate the temperature gages were.

Reese's upbringing had prepared her well for "roughing it." Her mother had often either passed out by supper time or was too imbibed to make anything, so Reese learned early on that if she were hungry, she'd have to fend for herself. While other students were reading Nancy Drew or Sweet Valley High, she was checking cook-books out of the school library, sampling and writing down simple recipes for chicken, stews, or pasta. Soon she was able to equate measurements from liters to ounces in her sleep. The food stamps her mother received allowed for basic staples, and they had to make it stretch so Reese also found creative ways to re-use leftovers when she needed to, which was often.

Having little to do during the day aside from asking Richard to take her to run a few errands, she took pride in making sure that Jimmy came home to a nice dinner every night. _Reese, you little domestic goddess, you_. Being a home maker was never her goal in life, but she figured it was the very least she could do to show her appreciation. Plus, not only was it was temporary and but she found the cooking to be surprisingly stress relieving.

In fact, the whole experience was proving to be less stressful than Reese anticipated. Although there were still times she remotely missed her flat-iron, or longed for the convenience of a microwave, this new life was quiet. There were no televisions, no computers, no iPhones or Facebook; no answering emails from clients.

Richard wasn't much of a talker, nor did he seem to like her very much. Reese still wasn't sure why he even needed to be there; she was pretty much on her own most of the time. Jimmy had a large bookshelf in the living room, spilling over with volume after volume. Reese liked the sunroom best, and she'd often retreat there with a cup of coffee and get lost in one of the stories. She liked to look out the window at the vacant beach, watching the waves roll in one after the other. Part of her wished her tenure were during warmer months, so she could enjoy the outdoors, while another enjoyed the coziness of the house.

Still, there were times when she was lonely and questioned why and what she was "chosen" for. She couldn't read Jimmy as well as she would have liked. He wasn't around that much and if he were home, he seemed to almost avoid her. She didn't understand it-he'd practically insisted that she stay there. She got the impression that he was hiding something, but what? A girlfriend? Reese acknowledged that it would certainly be difficult to explain her being there to a lover; she wouldn't have been very happy about it herself if the roles were reversed. His continued evasive behavior affirmed her suspicions, but she didn't dare ask.

One afternoon, after finishing one book and not ready to start another, she decided to do some sprucing up for him. Not that the place was dirty, but it definitely lacked a feminine touch when it came to dusting. She found a vacuum cleaner in one of the closets and went about the house. She was quite pleased with herself and was finishing up in the living room when it suddenly stopped working. Reese was surprised when she turned to see her friend on the other side of the room with the plug in his hand. The sweeper was significantly louder than her Dyson, and she didn't know he'd come home.

"Where'd you get that?" Jimmy asked, almost as if he were angry with her.

"…The hall closet. Why?"

He walked towards her, and began to roll the chord around the device. "You were snooping around?"

"No, I was trying to do something _nice _for you." The way he was looking at her made her feel like a criminal, and her temper flared. "You're welcome, by the way," she added hastily.

Jimmy just sighed and scowled. He didn't speak to her the rest of the evening or the following day. The following night, however, he seemed to be back to himself again- complimenting her dinner when it wasn't anything special, complimenting her attire which happened to be just a simple house dress, asking about her reading materials. He'd let her get close, but not too close, and Reese always found herself wanting more.


	14. Chapter 14

Jimmy couldn't be in the same room with her for very long- it was too intense. Although he forced himself to sample her meals out of politeness, he couldn't eat. He couldn't sleep either, but told himself that was nothing new-he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept soundly. He had to stay away from her. It was his only defense; push her away, and push hard. _Don't fall for her, and don't give her any reason to fall for you_. He already regretted the shopping trip, but couldn't take it back now.

He slept in one of the spare bedrooms down the hall from her, but it wasn't far enough away. Every night he closed his eyes and tried to picture Angela. It was something that he'd done while in the hospital and found comforting at the time but it was getting harder and harder to see her features so he ended up drinking until he passed out. He'd awake after a few hours and get himself together, taking a cold shower each morning as punishment for dreaming of Reese and not his spouse. She'd always be his wife, he told himself. After what he'd put her through, he didn't deserve happiness with anyone else nor could he bear the thought of another woman suffering because of something he'd done.

Instead he focused all of his attentions on Tommy, who was more than happy to spend time with his father. Jimmy sat in on his lessons and helped him with his homework. He wasn't sure how to be a father, but he tried his best. What he failed to see, however, was that in protecting the boy he'd also made him a prisoner in his own home.

"Daddy?" he asked one day after Leander had gone over a history lesson and they were taking a break.

"Yeah, pal."

"Remember that time we went to shoot the sea gulls?"

Jimmy nodded.

"And when you took me on the Ferris wheel? And the pony ride?"

"Yeah. That was fun, huh?"

The little looked up at him, his brown eyes wide. "Don't you love me anymore?"

Jimmy swallowed hard and thought he would vomit. It was _because _he loved him that he couldn't be with him. He grabbed the child and held him close to his chest, the top of Tommy's head resting on his heart, his own head lowered.

"Why would you say that buddy?" he croaked.

"Cause you never take me anywhere anymore."

"But Me-mawh and Uncle Richard take you out. How many times did you go to the beach this summer? And the Boardwalk…I know Uncle Richard won you all those toys from the shooting game. We counted 'em, remember?"

"It's not the same!"

Jimmy's heart was racing. He knew it wasn't the same. He was never great at communicating with adults, and he certainly was at a loss with the child. He could only pull Tommy tighter.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Tommy?"

"I miss Mama," he said quietly, as if he were afraid to say it.

He would have traded his life for hers; would have given anything. A part of him even wished she'd gone through with her plan to take the boy to Paris. Maybe they all would have been better off.

"I miss her too."


	15. Chapter 15

Reese was at a playground on the far end of the beach, in front of a swing set. She was laughing at Charlotte, now a toddler, who was playfully giggling back as her mother pushed her higher and higher.

"Weee!" Reese sang.

"Weee!" The baby echoed as the swing soared high above Reese's head.

But when it came down, Charlotte was gone.

"Charlotte?" She called, horrified. "_Charlotte!?_"

Reese looked around her, but the baby was nowhere to be seen, as if she'd vanished into thin air. She circled the playground, desperately seeking assistance from some of the other parents but they all ignored her.

"My baby! Where's my baby?" she pleaded in vain.

"Reese…"

She heard her name- it was unmistakably clear- yet couldn't tell where it was coming from.

"Reese…" she heard it again. It seemed to be coming from behind her, near the waterline. She turned away from the playground and walked toward the sea, almost as if she were floating.

There was a woman standing in the surf, an infant in her arms. She smiled at Reese as she got closer, her large brown eyes friendly and hopeful. She was young and beautiful. Her long dark hair fell in spirals to the middle of her back, blowing softly about her in the ocean breeze. She was dressed in a white summer gown; graceful, long and flowing. She held up the child and Reese could see that it was _her _baby- it was Charlotte, now back to being an infant. The woman took the baby's tiny hand and looked from Charlotte to Reese.

"Say hi to Mama…" she cooed as she helped the little one wave.

"What are you doing with my baby?" Reese asked, not in anger but in sorrow.

But the woman didn't answer her directly. "She knows that you love her. And she loves you too." Then, she looked to the side, eyeing what Reese could only guess as she saw nothing herself. She glanced hastily back and added only,"…I have to leave now…"

Reese shot straight up in bed, panting as she tried to catch her breath. It was the strangest dream she'd ever had.

* * *

Reese was still thinking about her dream over breakfast. It was so vivid that she just couldn't shake it off. She thought of Charlotte often, many times a day, but had never imagined what she'd actually look like. Now that she knew, subconsciously at least, she wouldn't soon forget. She pushed her eggs around her plate, and fiddled with her bracelet.

"Not hungry?" Jimmy inquired. It had only taken a few days for him to figure out that she was a morning person; perky and cheerful even before she had her coffee. But something seemed off this morning…not that he cared.

"I had the strangest dream last night-" she started.

But Jimmy shot her down right away. He had his own nightmares. He didn't have the fortitude to hear about hers. Besides, he didn't want to give her the wrong impression.

"I don't dream," he said abruptly. It was a lie, but she didn't need to know that. "You done with that?" He continued, eyeing her half-empty plate.

"Yes. Thank you," she replied. _So much for conversation_. She sighed and looked out the kitchen window at gray clouds hovering on the horizon. "Looks like it might rain today," she pondered.

He followed her gaze, his own eyes as stormy as she'd ever seen them. Yet it was so early in the day, she couldn't imagine what he could be so angry about.

"Yeah, almanac's calling for a Nor'easter. I'll bring some more wood in from the shed," he replied as he put the plate in the sink and pulled on his overcoat and hat.

Jimmy went out the kitchen door without saying another word. Reese was still at the kitchen table with her coffee when Richard came in a few minutes later, his arms full of logs for the fireplace. Reese looked up at him as he pushed the door closed with one of his feet, trying hard to hide her disappointment that Jimmy had left without even saying good-bye and thinking that maybe the time had come for her to look for another place to stay. "_Not today,"_ she thought glumly, just as it started raining.

Jimmy spent the ride to the mansion chain smoking and brooding. He glanced out the passenger side window from time to time, eyeing the clouds and glad it was raining. It was fitting; he wasn't in the mood for the sun today and it didn't seem to him that Reese was either. She wasn't herself and seemed really bothered by whatever it was that she'd dreamt about. She had such a lovely smile, and he found himself missing it; wishing he could do something to bring it back but knowing that he had to stay away from her.

_Two more weeks_. He was half-way there. He could make it through another two. Then she could go home, and he could go back to…what he wasn't really sure but he found the time-frame soothing nevertheless; uttering the words under his breath between drags and holding the steering wheel so tightly it hurt his hands.


	16. Chapter 16

It rained all morning and into the afternoon, a steady downpour lapping against the windows. Reese sat in the sunroom watching the water. To be right on the beach in the middle of a storm was quite a sight to be seen; white caps churning each wave higher and higher, the wind blowing so hard it almost flattened the grass in the dunes, sand flying everywhere. She sat on the couch, hugging her knees against her chest, thinking about her dream and what it could have meant. She was so focused that she didn't notice Richard had come into the room also.

"Power went out. Wind must've. Knocked down. A line."

"Oh…" Reese replied, suddenly slightly frightened at the prospect of being alone in the dark. She remembered a hurricane glass on the mantle of the fireplace with a cylinder candle in it, but wondered if Jimmy had any other materials on hand. "We should get some candles," she continued, figuring the other man might know their whereabouts.

He nodded in agreement and she got up to follow him as he left the room. Richard could sense her heightened anxiety. They didn't speak very much aside from pleasantries. Still, he could see that she was a good person and not the opportunist he'd mistook her for. When they did talk, she always looked at him directly, unlike the Irish woman who'd taken a while to warm up to him. And she was certainly better company than Gillian, who'd openly insulted him on countless occasions. He thought it must be strange for her; being displaced and in another time. Yet he also secretly envied that she'd had the chance to do so. What he wouldn't give to go back in time himself- to stop that young farm boy from enlisting; or stop his best friend from making one poor decision after another; or to have dropped by to check-in on a certain family on a certain summer night, not so very long ago.

There was plenty of firewood to tide them over. The hearth would provide light as well as warmth but there was no telling when the power would come back on. So, they went around the house together, checking in the closets and drawers for candles.

"You don't like me very much, do you?" Reese asked, seemingly out of the blue as they were descending the stairs from the loft on the second floor. A part of her was still upset about how Jimmy had been acting lately, and now, with the weather being so bad she was stuck there for at least another two or three days. "Hey, I don't blame you. You probably have better things to do with your time than babysit a grown woman. I told him I didn't need looking after, you know."

Richard wasn't sure how to respond. He knew exactly why he was there, but it wasn't his place to say anything. Moreover, he agreed with her that there was no danger- he'd taken care of that himself; shot the butcher with the same gun he'd mistakenly pulled on Reese. It took Jimmy quite a while to somewhat recover from his nervous breakdown, but when he did he got out of the business altogether. There were no more meetings with the New Yorkers, no more calls to Chicago. There was no more "work", per se, Jimmy living almost entirely off his investments which Leander oversaw. And Nucky left them alone, too…didn't want anything to do with Jimmy, which was for the best.

The danger was long gone, but Jimmy couldn't see that. He lived in a constant paranoid state, always on guard…always prepared for the worst. Richard didn't agree with the way he was raising Tommy- it wasn't what _she_ would have wanted at all- but he couldn't say anything. Although he felt like family, the boy wasn't his. So, he did the only thing he could do; be there for the child when his father couldn't. He watched after the boy at night because Jimmy so desperately needed him to. If that was what helped his friend get out of bed everyday than that was what he would do.

He said nothing, figuring it was better that way. Reese was his charge now, and he'd keep up the charade until Jimmy told him otherwise.


	17. Chapter 17

Jimmy stood in the great room of the mansion, looking out one of the massive stained glass windows at the rain. He held a tumbler in one hand, while the other was in the pocket of his trousers. It was barely ten in the morning, but he needed a drink so he helped himself to one as soon as he got there and was now on his second.

Leander and Tommy were seated across from each other by the fireplace. Today they were studying classic literature, and Jimmy was listening in. It was something he'd always been fond of until… Jimmy winced at the notion, pushing the memory back down while he emptied his glass.

"You're awfully thirsty today," purred his mother as she strode up beside him, tracing the shoulder of his jacket with her index finger. It always made his skin crawl, but he never knew what to do about it. He put his glass down on a nearby end table, and fished in his pocket for his cigarettes. She lit one for him then took one for herself.

"This little arrangement you have…I don't understand it, nor is it necessary."

"I don't recall askin' your opinion, Ma."

"I'm only looking out for you. She's what…28, 29? Certainly old enough to fend for herself."

Jimmy hadn't told her many details, but she'd tricked Richard into giving her some information when she'd realized her son changed his schedule. Then she noticed he seemed to have a change in his temperament, too. He wasn't quite as sullen, and she thought she saw the light returning to his eyes.

Gillian was aghast to find that the soldier was looking after the girl she'd met at the beach house. Her heart was broken when he'd left to meet Nucky; her world shattered. But a part of her took comfort in the fact that he'd be relieved of his suffering- a life of misery which she knew she contributed to and she hated herself for it. And then he came home, and completely fell to pieces. She couldn't bear the thought of him being hurt again but the little witch was supposedly leaving soon.

"It hasn't rained like this in a long time," Jimmy observed, changing the subject.

"At least a year," Gillian replied, eyeing him thoughtfully. "We've weathered a lot of storms together, haven't we?"

He exhaled the smoke he'd been holding in and looked over at Tommy. The boy was laughing at his tutor, exuding an innocence Jimmy had long since forgotten if he ever had it in the first place. He was drawn to the boy, as if he could somehow get a part of it back vicariously. He walked away from his mother and sank into one of the overstuffed chairs next to the hearth, picking up the newspaper Leander had brought with him and trying to lose himself in it while Gillian worked on her sewing across the room.

A few hours passed and it was time for Tommy's lunch and afternoon rest. At least, Leander _claimed _ the break was for the boy, but it was just as much for him as it was for Tommy. The paper was reporting a high tide that day around two o'clock, which was about an hour away. Still, with the storm growing worse, Jimmy wanted to call the house to make sure he wasn't taking in any water. He finished his meal, and rang the beach house but there was no answer. He tried again but it rang and rang and Jimmy was crushed by a wave of anxiety recalling the last time that had happened. _This is different. This is not the same. Just let it go. _

But Jimmy couldn't let it go. He tried to distract himself by reading Tommy a story before his nap, but it didn't help. As soon as the boy closed his eyes, his father was on the phone again.

"You worry too much," his mother lectured. She knew him too well and this was not about the house at all. "Richard is there. Don't you think he would call if there was any storm damage?"

Jimmy wanted to believe her but couldn't. He tried to call again after another thirty minutes but there was still no response. _Damn it. Pick up the phone_. He slammed down the receiver. By now he was sick to his stomach and his leg was pulsating. He fumbled for his hat and coat, his hands shaking as he put them on.

"I'm going," he said as he entered the den where Gillian and Leander were having tea. Jimmy turned to the older man, his eyes yearning for understanding. "Can you stay here 'til Richard or I get back? I don't wanna leave 'em alone."

"Of course, James," the older gentleman nodded. He didn't feel like going out in the nasty weather anyway.

Jimmy cursed more on the way back to the beach house than he ever did in his life. He drove as fast as the weather would allow, but between the storm surge and the tide the roads were a mess. His palms were sweating so he gripped the steering wheel tighter, his heart racing. He told himself that he was protecting his investment; he was only going to make sure the house was intact-and that was all. It seemed to take him forever to get there, but when he finally did the house was dark.


	18. Chapter 18

Having found nothing upstairs, Richard and Reese continued their scavenger hunt. He led the way to one of the rooms in the back of the house. Reese had never been in there before- the door was always closed- and after the incidents with the rug and the vacuum she wanted to try to avoid further misunderstandings with her host.

The room was cold, much colder than the rest of the house, but she attributed that to the closed door and the fact that it was now late November. She didn't give it a second thought, and opened a cedar chest on the far wall. What she found left her speechless, and Richard noticed the change in her immediately. He recalled being in the room once before himself; it was a sad- though lovely- afternoon and the last time he ever spoke of his beloved sister to anyone.

Reese was on her knees bent over the chest. She couldn't breathe and felt another panic attack coming on. The storm outside seemed to grow worse too, thunder and lightning now accompanying the heavy rain. She looked over to Richard, her hands trembling as she pulled out a baby blanket. It was white and blue, and lovingly crocheted. The rest of the chest contained some clothing- little boy's garments- she noted astutely. But they couldn't have been Jimmy's…even with proper storage there was no way that any of it was over twenty years old.

She held the blanket close to her chest, hot tears in the corners of her eyes. "What is this?" she asked Richard in a voice just above a whisper, which was ridiculous because she knew exactly what it was.

"A blanket," he replied, pointing out the obvious and careful not to volunteer the answer to the question that she hadn't asked…who it belonged to. The room was freezing and he knew that they weren't alone. Maybe she wanted him to tell Reese. Still, he wasn't sure so he said nothing else.

"I had a baby," she gulped, taking him completely by surprise. "I had a baby and she died," Reese continued, choking back sobs. "And…and…_it was_ _my fault_!"

Richard couldn't help but go to her and kneel down beside her. Jimmy hadn't mentioned a baby. In fact, he didn't tell Richard much about her other than she was from sometime in the future and needed their help. Jimmy was adamant about it. So, after he resolved that her story was true, Richard didn't ask any questions. He reported for duty each morning, not really wanting to know any more about her than that. She tried to catch her breath, and he gently put his hand on her shoulder.

"What. Happened?" he asked.

Reese was clutching the blanket tightly, and tears streaming down her face. Who was she to feel sorry for herself when this man had visibly lost so much as well? Lived through God-only-knew what but it must've been horrible. She felt like a hypocrite and it only made her cry harder.

"Stacey Edwards," she huffed. "I'm an attorney. She was a high profile client, my biggest case ever. I was part of her defense team," Reese sniffled and stopped to take another breath. When she was able to continue, she added, "She was accused of killing her baby, we got her acquitted but it wasn't easy. The discovery and investigation took months…extension after extension- both at our request and the prosecution's- and the media was all over it. Every major network had to put their two cents in. I found out I was pregnant while we were in the midst of deposing some of our experts. My husband…my _ex-husband_…" The thought of Bryce brought a fresh round of tears and she let it all out.

Richard, ever patient, never left her side. A few minutes later, she squared her shoulders and caught her breath again.

"We weren't 'trying', per se, but we were both overjoyed at the news. Everything was going great until I started showing. At first I could hide the bump, but by the time the case went to trial I was six months along. The press had a field day- said I would make a terrible parent. What kind of mother defends a woman accused of murdering her own? But, while Stacey committed the crime- which is not something that I condone- she wasn't in her right frame of mind. She was a victim herself. It doesn't excuse what she did but…she didn't do it purposely. I firmly believe that and the jury did too. The firm hosted a huge dinner to celebrate. They spared no expense- steak, lobster, a salad bar stretching nearly twenty feet, hot hors d'oeuvres, caviar, top-shelf open bar, you name it…"

She stopped then, feeling tightness in her chest as she thought about the events of the rest of that tragic night. Richard handed her the handkerchief that was in his pocket and she dabbed at her eyes. He still didn't understand what all of this had to do with her baby, but could tell she needed to regroup and assumed there was more. Day had turned to night, but neither really noticed the increased darkness both outdoors and in, the small oil lantern Richard had been carrying with the around the house giving a soft glow from the top of a dresser next to the door. Reese took a deep breath as she prepared to relay the rest of her tale.

"My mother was an alcoholic," she sighed. "I forgot to mention that part. She was always a lush and she always will be. Still, she was my mother and I wanted her there for my big victory party. I wanted her to be proud of me. It's all I ever wanted, really," she sniffled.

"Well," Reese continued, "After several martinis she was falling down drunk, slurring every other word, and I was mortified. So we- my ex-husband and I- left the party to take her home. Her apartment was on the second floor, and she needed help up the stairs. I wasn't much use, waddling along, but between Bryce and myself, we were able to manage it. He was in front of her, walking backwards as he practically pulled her up, and I behind. She was belligerent, furious with me for ruining her good time and when we were almost at the top decided that was the perfect opportunity to let me know about it. Bryce was holding her hands, but she pulled away from him and lost her footing, crashing into me. He was able to grab her by the upper arm, but he couldn't hold both of us and I tumbled backwards falling all the way down. The next thing I knew, I was in the delivery room. Going into labor is supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life, but I cried the whole time because they couldn't stop the contractions. It was too soon. At thirty-two weeks she _might _have survived, but not at twenty-eight…I wasn't far enough along. But she wasn't stillborn and it was a miracle. She lived in an incubator for two days…two of the best and worst days of my entire life. I knew it wouldn't last. I _knew _it…I wasn't surprised but I couldn't stop it. The hospital issued a Social Security number and a Death Certificate, and we buried her by the end of the week. Have you ever seen an infant-sized coffin? They don't even look real."

Reese looked at Richard, her green eyes glazed over, her nose red. She looked very much like a child herself, and he couldn't help but sympathize. He'd seen and done some terrible things, knew the world was cruel and full of sorrow, but he'd never buried a child.

"But your fall. Was an accident." He tried to comfort her, but it was of no use.

"No, don't you see? It was my fault…the whole thing was my fault entirely. I never even got to hold her, which is fitting, really, considering everything," she countered.

Richard regarded her with concern. Now she was starting to sound like someone else he knew.

"The case…the fucking trial. Do you know why I took the case in the first place? For the glory. To prove to myself…to my stupid snobby in-laws…to the world that Reese Forrester was a force to be reckoned with. And we won!" she shook her head regretfully and blew her nose.

"If we had lost, there wouldn't have been a party…and my mother wouldn't have gotten sloshed- not _that _night anyway- and I would have carried to term…and my child would still be here. But I was so blinded by ambition…so stupid. I didn't marry Bryce for the money- which he had plenty of by the way. I loved him, I really loved him but I couldn't let him love me; couldn't let him all the way in. That's what he said, you know, when he served me with the divorce papers. He said that Kate- his attractive young secretary- was simple…easy to love, easy to please. I have a divorce settlement coming to me when I get home- _if _I ever get home- and ya know what? I don't even give a shit about the money anymore. All the money in the world can't buy back what I've lost. Bryce is gone and Charlotte is gone and I have no one to blame but myself."

Reese sighed heavily, remembering her dream, and figured that was what triggered her emotions. _Get it together Reese_. She felt sheepish for getting so upset, and chided herself. She knew even less about this man than she knew of Jimmy. They'd been dancing around each other for days, barely saying more than hello and she'd just told him practically her life story.

"I'm sorry. For your loss," Richard gruffed.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I dreamt of her last night," she added by way of trying to get him to see that she wasn't crazy.

But just as she finished, there was a crash on the far side of the room. A shelf over the dresser hung slanted to the side, several of the items it held falling down to the floor- a picture frame among them; it's glass front now shattered all over. Reese was startled, but rose to pick it up. It was laying face-down and she reached out a hand, still clutching the baby blanket in the other.

"Thought I told you not to go snooping around?"

Lightning crashed outside and Reese could see the outline of Jimmy's silhouette by the door.


	19. Chapter 19

Richard stood up as Jimmy entered the room. He could tell his friend was angry and knew where that could lead. But he now knew too much about this girl to let anything happen. He'd stay in his place, for now, and hoped he wouldn't have to move.

Jimmy shuffled over to Reese. He bent down and grabbed the other end of the frame she was holding. "Gimme that," he ordered, pulling hard, but she wouldn't let go.

"Why?" she defied him.

He pulled harder. This time she did let go, but he wasn't prepared and dropped it again as he jerked backward, his bad leg betraying him. The frame flipped over as it fell and landed face up. Reese was astonished- there she was…the woman from her dream. Her hair was much shorter, but it was definitely her, Reese was sure of it. She was smiling sweetly in full bridal attire, her long veil attached to a thick head band; her huge bouquet spilling down over her drop waist lace dress. What surprised Reese even more, however, was who else was in the picture.

"You're _married!?_" she gasped, flabbergasted. She knew he was acting strangely, but she wasn't prepared for that. She felt a knot in her stomach as she tightened her grip on the blanket in her hand, and realized that it must belong to one of Jimmy's children. "How many kids to you have? Were you planning on telling me any of this or did you just like playing house?"

Jimmy was furious. He squared his jaw, answering none of her questions. His nostrils flared as he bent down, picked up the picture and hurled it across the room. He wasn't sure who he was angry with the most- himself for rushing home like an idiot, Reese for constantly making him feel things he didn't want to feel, or Richard for being the one to hold and comfort her as she tearfully relayed what was probably one of the saddest stories he'd ever heard- and he was no stranger to tragedy.

"That's none of your God damn business," he finally managed.

"You made it my business when you asked me to stay here!" she shot back.

"Well no one's holding you hostage."

"Really?" Reese replied. She was standing up now, her hands on her hips. "I don't get you, Jimmy. I don't get you at all. It's like you're two different people."

"If I'm so terrible, then why are you still here?" he shouted.

"Funny," she said as she pushed passed him, "I've been asking myself the same question all day."

Less than a minute later Reese must've reached the bedroom because the door slammed closed.

"We came in here. Looking for. Candles. You should. Know that," Richard offered, although he hadn't been asked.

Jimmy sighed. "You think I was too hard on her?" he asked his friend, ashamed and already knowing the answer to that himself. Her story was heart breaking, and what did he do? He made it worse for her.

"How much. Did you hear?"

"Most of it, I think," Jimmy replied.

But Richard didn't answer.

"I'm gonna go talk to her," Jimmy continued. He started to shuffle back towards the door, but his friend put his arm on his shoulder.

"Give her. Some time."

* * *

Reese was completely humiliated. She sat on the edge of the bed, her arms crossed over her abdomen, rocking back and forth subconsciously to soothe herself after her heated argument with Jimmy. She'd thought they made a connection that first day, but couldn't have been more wrong.

None of it made any sense. It was 1922, divorce was almost unheard of. If this was his house, where was his family? She recalled the knives and the guns and was suddenly very afraid. What if this wasn't his house after all? If that were the case, where the hell was she? But perhaps what was most bizarre was that she would dream of his wife- whom she had never seen before. Why would she have Charlotte?

Jimmy made it clear that she wasn't welcome anymore and Reese sniffled as she glanced down at the bracelet on her right wrist. She traced Charlotte's name with the index finger on her left hand, trying to see the child's face again but all she could see was the diamond on her ring finger, its light vibrant even in the stormy darkness. _Bryce, you might be good for something after all_. She knew approximately what it had cost when her ex purchased it- not because she'd asked but because he'd openly volunteered the information at their engagement party- and she wondered what it would yield her now. It was the Roaring 20's, after all, the decade of decadence. If nothing else, she could negotiate a trade at one of the boardinghouses in exchange for her lodging. Being the off season, the odds were in her favor and she took a deep breath.

It was still raining outside, but the winds appeared to have tapered off. Reese opened one of the windows. "_Good- bye Jimmy_," she thought solemnly as she made her escape, taking only the clothes on her back with her.


	20. Chapter 20

Reese ran down the beach, not sure where she was even going, just running as fast as her feet would carry her. She cried hysterically, devastated that it was all ending and reminding herself that it never really began in the first place. They'd never even kissed, only brushed hands a few times. How was she going to get home now? What was this mission she was on for Madame Celeste? This couldn't have been what the medium had planned for her; it was too cruel.

Her hair fell out of the loose, sloppy bun she'd been wearing, wet bangs slapping against her cheeks with each stride. It was cold out, but she was so full of adrenalin she didn't feel it. She could hear the roar of the ocean, and was considering throwing herself in and letting the tide take her out to sea, when she thought she heard her name. It was faint at first, but then she heard it again and saw a light flicker in what appeared to be a life guard station about fifty feet ahead of her. Just when she thought she must be mistaken it flickered again.

She reached the shelter and tried the door. _Please don't be locked, please don't be locked._ To her amazement, it wasn't and Reese held her breath as she entered. She squinted as her eyes re-adjusted to the darkness. The building held several rescue boats, turned upside-down and stored for the winter. Next to the entrance, there was a small desk with a lantern on it, and she quickly rummaged through the drawers looking for matches. She could feel what she thought was a box, and breathed a sigh of relief. She sank into the desk chair and buried her head in her hands in despair. It was all just too overwhelming. When Reese finally looked up a few minutes later, she realized she wasn't alone.

"Don't be afraid."

The voice was quiet, the brown eyes gentle as her companion regarded her sympathetically. It was the woman from her dream, the woman who was evidently Jimmy's wife, leaning casually against one of the boats with a silver glow all about her. She wore the same nightgown as before. Her smile was kind and reassuring. She nodded to a bin to the left of the boats.

"They keep the blankets in there."

Reese was still coming to terms with her being there. Considering her own feelings towards Kate, she couldn't imagine why this woman was being so nice to her but then she reminded herself that nothing happened. _But you certainly wanted it to_. She stood up and slowly moved towards the bin, gingerly lifting the lid. She pulled out a plaid flannel blanket and swaddled herself in it, shimmying slowly back to the chair and keeping one eye on the woman at all times.

"He does that sometimes," the woman continued softly. "He's so angry but he keeps it all inside."

"I assume you're talking about Jimmy?" Reese said slowly.

"Yes," the woman bit her lip shyly and tucked a strand of her long raven locks behind her ear. "I should have introduced myself, my apologizes. I'm Angela."

"Reese."

"I know. Do you like the bracelet?"

"It's from _you_?" Reese felt her blood run cold.

Her companion nodded. She looked doubtful, self-conscious, exposed.

"Where's my baby?"

"I can explain…I know this all must seem very strange but…please don't be frightened. Charlotte is safe. She's with me…I've been looking after her. She's happy, Reese."

Reese gulped. Charlotte had been dead for months now.

"Yes," Angela affirmed, as if she knew exactly what Reese was thinking, "Yes, I am too…"

Reese stood up hastily and looked towards the door.

"Please," Angela begged, "please don't go yet…we need your help."

"We?"

"Heaven is…so beautiful. Reese, it's amazing…everything you think it would be multiplied by a thousand. But we're trapped…we're trapped _here_ and there's not much time left. If we don't cross over by the next full moon, we'll be trapped for all eternity."

"Charlotte, too?"

Angela nodded somberly.

"What do I have to do?"

"It's Jimmy. Reese, he's suffering…he has been for years. I didn't understand it before…I always thought it was me...that the baby and I were the reason he left school… I was so angry with him for so long. But I know now…I know what happened at Princeton and it wasn't his fault. It was the beginning of the end for him; the catalyst for everything that followed. But he never told me…"

Angela stopped here to reflect. If she were capable of crying Reese suspected that she'd see tears streaming down the other woman's face as whatever it was she was talking about was obviously something terrible.

"It might not have changed our relationship," she continued. "I…had other interests and certainly made my own mistakes along the way but…he won't let me go. He blames himself. I've tried to show him that it's okay to move on, but every time I'm near he's frightened. We were never good at communicating in life…it was foolish of me to think we could communicate now."

"I still don't see what all this has to do with Charlotte," Reese said skeptically.

"I have a child, a little boy. Tommy needs his father, now more than ever."

"So…what exactly? You look after my child, and I'll look after yours?"

"No," Angela shook her head, "I don't expect that. But Jimmy will open up to you. That's why I picked you. He'll tell you, Reese. He'll tell you everything."

She was speaking in a rush now, glancing periodically to the side the way she had in Reese's dream; her doe eyes wide and pleading for more time.

"What do you want me to do?" Reese wanted her permission. Wanted to hear her say it, she wouldn't feel right about it otherwise, she already felt guilty enough. But Angela only gave her a knowing glance. "And what about afterwards? Did you think of that or are you just thinking about yourself? How will I know you've 'crossed over'…that Charlotte's okay. And how do I get home?"

"Please trust me. I mean you no harm, nor do I want to hurt Jimmy…I already hurt him enough. There isn't much time…go to the Palmist. Celeste will direct you from there. I'm sorry I can't tell you more…"

The lawyer in Reese wasn't fully satisfied with any of her answers, so mythical and ambiguous. She opened her mouth to launch into another interrogation, but Angela shook her head desperately.

"He needs to understand that it wasn't his fault. And, Reese, it wasn't your fault either…" her voice trailed off as she disappeared.


	21. Chapter 21

Jimmy knocked lightly on the bedroom door. He never could control his temper, now seeing the horror-struck look on her face was something else he'd have to live with. _Add that to the list_. He thought about what she'd said; the blame she carried around with herself. How could she have known that would happen? Her mother sounded like a real piece of work, and her husband…well, Jimmy'd like to knock him out. Then again, who was he to question the grief process? Who was he to judge the man for pushing her away when he'd been doing the same thing himself? But now he just wanted to cradle her and tell her he was wrong, and kiss her tears away.

Reese didn't answer so he tapped again. "Reese," he said softly but she still didn't answer. "_Maybe she's sleeping_," he thought. A yearning rose up inside him as he pictured her on the bed, her lashes fluttering, and her chestnut hair splayed all around the pillow. The urge was too strong. Jimmy couldn't stop himself and opened the door to steal a peek but the room was empty.

"Reese!" he cried fervently. But all he could hear in response were Richard's footsteps charging down the hall.

The two men entered the room cautiously. Jimmy first and Richard only a step behind him. Jimmy held a candle in his left hand, waving it carefully in front of them. But the flame flickered drawing their eyes to the windows on the right side of the bed- one of them open; its lace curtains dancing in the wind.

"She's gone," Richard said.

"No," Jimmy shook his head in denial, "No, she can't be gone. Not in this weather- she'll freeze. She doesn't know anyone else in town, where the fuck would she go?"

"We'll find her," Richard replied, ever obedient and concerned about the girl himself given her fragile emotional state.

"Christ, when did she leave? She could be half-way to the train station by now."

"Does she. Know where. That is?"

"No, you're right. I don't think she does. Richard, if anything happens to her…" Jimmy trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish that thought. _You pushed too far this time._

Richard was jiggling his car keys in his pocket, ready to leave whenever Jimmy made the call. But his friend surprised him.

"No, buddy," Jimmy said, his voice full of resolve. "I need you to check-in on my mother and Tommy. I left 'em with the old man, but it's getting late. If it turns out I need back up, I'll call you at the mansion."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

The soldier gave a slight nod and was on his way, leaving Jimmy alone in the room. Isn't this what he wanted? He walked over to the closet, opened the door, and ran his hand along her dresses; all hanging neatly in a row. He pouted and choked back a sob at the thought of never seeing her again. Never getting to tell her just how beautiful he thought she was, or that he was glad they met that night at Joe's, or that- while he didn't show it- he was happier the last two weeks than he had been in a long time. He tried to pass it off, showering and heading to his room shortly after dinner; always keeping their interactions to a minimum. He bit the knuckle of his left index finger so hard he almost drew blood. _I'll find you. Even if I have to look all night._

His mind was racing as he stumbled out the door and back to the car. Where could she have gone? Richard had made a good point about the train station, but it couldn't hurt to check there anyway. Thankfully, it turned out, none of the trains were running in the storm.

Jimmy checked every boardinghouse in the area but none of the proprietors had seen anyone fitting Reese's description. That was another issue in and of itself- Jimmy didn't have a picture of her and was so blinded by his anger when he last saw her that he couldn't remember what she was wearing which made for some awkward conversations. Still, he had to ask and went diligently from door to door for hours.

He thought of the few places they'd been together, checking Joe's first before making his way to the Boardwalk. He was a soaking wet mess as he limped up the ramp towards the Palmist. But most of the shops were closed on account of the weather, and Madame Celeste's was no different. Jimmy stood in front of the shop, the rain pouring off the rim of his hat, staring vacantly into the darkened store. _Where are you?_

A gust of wind knocked his hat off and blew it in the direction of the ramp. It landed in front of the deli on the corner and he hobbled after it. He bent down to pick up and that's when he saw it- Angela's reflection behind him. Her hair was long again, so long and so beautiful and she was smiling at him.

"Go home, Jimmy…"

How long had he waited for this moment? He touched the glass, unable to breathe and gasping for air. Why? He had so much to say but no words would come out. He whirled around to face her but she was gone.

"Ange? _Angela_!"

This was shaping up to be one of the worst nights in a long time. Defeated, he trudged down the ramp and back to the car. He felt like he was underwater, everything moving in slow motion. He drove back to the beach house, lost in his thoughts, aimlessly smoking one cigarette after another. When he reached the house, he hung up his coat by the door and went straight to the liquor cabinet. He may not be in the business anymore but he could still get good hooch from Al. He took out two bottles; one half empty already. Jimmy didn't even bother to get a glass- he just opened it and took a long swig, limping into the living room and collapsing in a chair next to the fireplace. He was soaked through, but he didn't care, loosening only his tie as it was starting to shrink and tugged tightly around his neck like a noose. It didn't take him long to polish off the first bottle and open the other.

He must've passed out at some point, because he awoke with a start, his head snapping to attention at a noise- a banging sound.

_"_What the hell is that?"he muttered under his breath then he heard it again.

It wasn't the first time he'd heard a thump in the night. Sometimes it was the shower running, or the Victrola turning on all by itself. Sometimes it was nothing at all, but it was her, just the same. _What Ange, what? What the fuck do you want from me? _When he heard it a third time, he realized it was the front door. He wondered why Richard wouldn't just call, but then he remembered that the power was out. Bottle still in hand, he slowly stumbled towards it. His head was woozy, his vision clouded from the alcohol and the tears. Jimmy opened the door and dropped the whiskey.

Reese stood cowering on the step below him. She was shivering, her dress saturated and clinging to her curves, her straggly hair down and curled from the dampness; her eyes wide and helpless. Her arms crossed around herself, she bit lip nervously, clearly still afraid of him and Jimmy felt something deep inside him break.

"You came back," he said hoarsely, cupping her head in his hands and pulling her into a kiss.


	22. Chapter 22

Their clothing was strewn all over the house, Jimmy somehow managing to walk backwards as he took off his vest. He tried in vain to undo the buttons on the back of Reese's dress, and when he couldn't he finally just ripped it right off…pieces of it still in the hallway. She fared better with the buttons on his shirt and trousers and threw them on the floor behind her. He wouldn't break the kiss, but she didn't want him to so she locked her wrists around his neck.

They reached the fireplace and he hastily pulled a knitted throw from the couch, laying it before them on the hardwood floor. He wrapped his arms around the small of Reese's back and carefully lowered them onto it, entering her almost immediately. She let out a moan and it occurred to him that in the heat of his burning desire he was perhaps being too rough. He glanced down at her with concern at having hurt her but Reese only smiled back lustfully, pushing her hips up and moving with him with each glorious thrust.

There was practically no space between them; Jimmy barely hovering over her, nothing but skin to skin contact. He felt that he almost couldn't get close enough to her as she traced the tips of her fingernails up and down his back, driving him crazy. She buried her face in the nook where his neck met his shoulder, kissing and softly biting him; relishing the deliciously salty taste as he was now sweating as was she.

He was doing most of the work, penetrating her deeply and keeping most of his weight on his left side. While she was thoroughly enjoying herself, she thought of his bad leg and wanted to relieve him. Wrapping her legs around his torso, she pulled towards the side to roll him onto his back. He stayed inside her and they moved seamlessly as one. She straddled him and looked down, her wet bangs dangling slightly next to her left eye and the rest of her hair falling forward as well and Jimmy was amazed at her raw beauty.

Reese rode him hard, gliding up and down his manhood, her thighs slapping softly against his hips. After awhile Jimmy curled himself into an almost seated position, cupping her ample breasts in his hands and suckling hungrily. Then he looked up at her, half of his mouth curled into an impish grin. He lifted his right hand, sliding his tongue along his thumb; generously wetting it before drawing it down and circling her clitoris.

"Faster," she instructed breathlessly and he happily obliged.

He kept his eyes locked on her, watching her expression and taking deep satisfaction in knowing he was pleasuring her. Moments later she hissed and threw back her head wildly. Jimmy was getting close, too, and he held her tightly, kissing her on the mouth again as he moved her to her backside pushing deeper and deeper until finally culminating in a perfect crescendo. He collapsed on top of her, staying inside her until he felt himself go soft.

Now they were a jumble of limbs on the floor in front of the hearth. Reese was exhausted but so blissfully happy that she couldn't possibly sleep; while Jimmy was snoozing, his head over her heart. She admired his long lashes and perfect mouth as she stroked his hair and the smooth back of his neck. He looked so peaceful and every now and again would sigh contently.

He started to rouse as dawn was breaking on the horizon; the sky a blaze in vibrant pink and orange as the sun's first rays streamed through the windows warming his cheeks. He lifted his head and looked up at her, his eyes sleepy yet lustful, and grinned almost to remind himself that this was all real. The pomade in his hair was no match for gravity, and a strand fell forward just over his right eye. Reese caressed his cheekbone, tracing his face all the way up as she brushed it away.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"I figured," she smiled playfully. "I'm sorry, too." She pulled her torso off the floor so that she was resting on her elbows, leaned over, and gently kissed the top of his forehead.

Jimmy moved off of her and slid in behind her, pulling her back down and spooning her closely as he took in the scent of her hair.

"Where'd you go?"

"I found a life guard station and ducked inside to get out of the weather."

"Reese, I…wasn't tryin' to hide anything from you and I want you to know that I didn't lie to you either."

_I know. Your dead wife is looking after my dead baby. She contacted me through a medium, sent me back in time, and basically gave me her blessing to do what we just did. _

Somehow she didn't think that would go over well. It sounded crazy. Completely unreal.

Jimmy misread her silence and held her tighter. "I didn't mean to scare ya. I just…I just get so angry. I dunno. I can't explain it, but I would never, ever hurtcha." He nuzzled against the nape of her neck, sending a tingle down her spine.

"I'm not married," he continued, "I was…the girl in the picture- Angela- she was my wife but she passed away last year. I shoulda told ya before we…"

"Jimmy, I'm so sorry…" she whispered sincerely, rolling over so that they were face to face. His eyes were large, slightly bloodshot, and dewy. It was the same look he'd given her that first morning after Joe's when he'd mistaken her name for the baby's and Reese's heart ached for him.

"I haven't been with anyone since," he said huskily.

"I haven't either. I mean…with the divorce."

"He's a fool."

Jimmy cradled her and she melted into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. Coming down from her euphoria, sleep was finally catching up with her. She yawned softly and he could feel her warm breath against his chest.

"Sleep Reese," he whispered, petting her hair the way he'd always been wanting to.

"And you'll be there when I wake up?" she cooed, her lids heavy.

"I'll be right here."


	23. Chapter 23

They made love again when they woke up a few hours later. Softer, this time, but just as sweet and Jimmy rolled onto his back afterwards. Drunk on her body, his head was spinning as he lit a post-coital cigarette.

Reese stood up and draped his shirt over herself, buttoning it half-way down and cuffing the sleeves so that they didn't hang over her hands. She bit her lower lip with determination as she pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail, some of her bangs falling forward so she smoothed them behind her ear.

"Dessert before breakfast," she grinned coyly. "How 'bout I make us some eggs?"

Jimmy's stomach growled at the thought of food. He hadn't eaten anything since lunch the previous day. "That sounds good," he said, exhaling.

She trotted off to the kitchen, leaving him alone with his thoughts which were surprisingly…happy? Was he actually happy? It was something he hadn't felt in so long that he wasn't sure. He'd felt terribly guilty for even wanting her. He wasn't supposed to touch her, he knew, yet…somehow…he didn't feel a bit guilty after they had been together. Except now he felt guilty about not feeling guilty and he squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Jimmy, its ready…" she called.

"Be right in."

He stood, expecting to feel stiff from running around in the rain and sleeping on the floor- not to mention the other physical exertion although that was certainly nothing to complain about- yet he wasn't. In fact, he found as he bent his right knee that he was almost able to move it fluidly. There was still a little pain, there always would be the doctors told him, but nothing in comparison to what he'd been experiencing lately. Jimmy shook his head in amazement and pulled his t-shirt and trousers on, leaving the suspenders dangling down.

He entered the kitchen, where Reese had set the table- two plates, two mugs, two sets of utensils. He tried to tell himself it was the same as any other meal they'd shared together, but it wasn't. Jimmy never took the time to notice the number two, but now it swam around his head. He liked it.

"Are you up for heading out today?" He asked between bites of his toast.

"Sure," she replied as it dawned on her that it he hadn't left for work yet and she blushed. "What did you have in mind?"

"There's someone I want ya to meet," Jimmy said as he took a sip of coffee.

He looked so content, so different than the person who sat before her the previous morning. Reese sighed happily, hoping it had something to do with her. She nodded and cupped her hands around her own mug.

After breakfast they both went to shower (separately, she thought reluctantly) and get ready. Reese couldn't imagine where they'd be going, and stood before the closet trying to figure out what to wear. A house dress wouldn't do, as this was obviously someone special to him, but she wasn't sure if the evening dress Madame Jeunet had talked her into buying would be too much. She ended up settling on the pink dress she'd worn the day of the shopping trip; partially because she really liked the hat that matched it and still hadn't quite gotten the knack of styling her hair circa 1920's.

She took the lipstick out of her small purse- her Coach bag being retired to the floor of the closet- and carefully applied it. It was a classic red, not exactly her color usually but it was the only color available at the drugstore and, while she had a sheer gloss in her large pocketbook, she wanted to keep with the times as much as possible. Reese stuck out her chin, admiring her reflection one last time in the mirror before retiring to the sun room.

It was a beautiful day, the calm after the storm. The sun so bright it warmed the room and she couldn't help but smile. She heard a low whistle from the hall and felt herself reddening. She turned three-quarters and eyed Jimmy, who was standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.

"You look really pretty," he said slowly. "I meant to tell ya that the first time you wore it but…" He glanced awkwardly to the side.

"You're not so bad yourself," Reese replied, strolling towards him.

It wasn't just lip service. She'd spent most of her career around men in suits; old men, young men, tall men, short men, stout men, slender men. But no one, _no one_ looked as good as Jimmy did. Today's ensemble was light gray, three-pieces as usual, with pale blue pin-strips. He wore a dark blue shirt under his vest, and a gold and baby-blue tie. He smelled of cologne and shaving cream and pomade; a heavenly scent and she took it all in.

"Ready?" he asked with a smile.

"Ready," she replied, linking her arm in his at the elbow as he walked her out the door.

They drove through the town and Reese paid more attention this time. She was starting to get used to the sights, the awnings hanging quaintly over some of the store fronts, people waving hello to one another and interacting. _Really _interacting, not just texting or emailing or social networking but actually talking to each other. Neighbors not only knew their neighbors, but were also a kind of second family- a community- and looked out for each other. It was nice, she thought. Not that the period was without its own stressors, certainly for the women- who had larger families to cook for…meals 'from scratch' no less…doing more while on a smaller budget since most of them didn't work outside the home. But, she further pondered, it must've been hard for the men too, especially if it were the winter and work was scarce.

Still, Reese had to admit, she did not miss the constant "ding!" from her lap top or buzz from her iPhone alerting her to another "urgent" matter at the office. "_Urgent…_" she mused eyeing the green grocer as they were stopped at a traffic signal. Urgent was not a stringently imposed discovery deadline that the judge wouldn't extend; it was trying to figure out how to creatively stretch the bag of potatoes and onions you bought for a month without the children becoming bored and having to explain to them that you couldn't afford much more than that. Urgent was mending the knee of a pair of trousers so that it could be handed down for the third time. Urgent _was not_ the email- in red…with the exclamation point- from her boss reminding her of the partner's meeting, when she was the one who scheduled the meeting in the first place. Reese thought that she loved the law, and a part of her did. But she loved the _idea _of it- of justice, of standing up for what was right- much more than the actual work. It was funny to her. She thought she'd miss it, so much that she'd had a panic attack, but she didn't really miss it at all. When had she stopped liking her job? She wondered. Did she ever even like it in the first place?

The car came to a stop in front of a massive wrought-iron gate, calling Reese back to attention. Behind the gate was a long, winding drive way lined with pine trees, and she was more than a little curious to see what was at the end but she couldn't see that far. Jimmy put the car in park, and looked over at her.

"Where are we?" Reese breathed, suddenly nervous.

"This is my house-" Jimmy started and watched as her jaw dropped.

_His house? He has two houses? _

She was floored and he could tell, so he smiled slightly trying to put her at ease. There were so many questions flashing in her eyes, and he hoped to answer at least some by the end of the afternoon.

"It was my father's…I inherited it after he died. The one you've been staying at- where I live- that one's mine."

"Oh…"

Reese's mind was racing. She'd already met his mother- though not in the manner she would have liked to- and his father was apparently gone. So that left…the little boy. Her stomach was doing cartwheels. This was a big deal. Did he not have custody? Angela mentioned the child needing his father. "He'll tell you everything…" her soft voice rang in Reese's head. She trusted her, she had to for Charlotte.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" she smiled at him eagerly.

* * *

Jimmy got out and opened the gate, pulling the car through then getting out again to close it. She held her breath as they made their way down the drive and the house sprung up before them. The driveway formed a horse-shoe at the entrance, and Jimmy parked in front of the stairs. He got out then opened the door for Reese. He took her soft hand as she stepped out of the car, eyeing her in a way that gave her goose bumps. They walked up the stairs hand-in-hand and Jimmy opened the enormous door.

"Daddy! Daddy!" called a small voice with glee.

Reese turned her head towards the end of the cavernous foyer as Tommy raced towards them, his brown eyes huge, and his smile even bigger. She fell instantly in love with him. He had his mother's eyes, Reese noted, and she wondered if Charlotte had hers.

Jimmy leaned over and gave him a bear hug.

"How's my boy today?"

"Good," the child smiled up adoringly, light freckles dotting his button nose and chubby cheeks. "Who's that?" he asked, looking at Reese.

"That's Reese, she's my friend."

"Reese, this is my son, Tommy," Jimmy said softly, glancing cautiously from one party to the other.

When Tommy pouted he looked just like his father. He eyed Reese skeptically, his dark eyes boring into her. She smiled sweetly as she kneeled down to his level and extended her hand.

"Pleased to meet you," she said, her voice half an octave higher. She held his little fingers and gave him a friendly shake, but it took everything in her not to grab the boy and hold him tightly against herself. He looked like a cherub, exuding innocence all around him.

"Hi," he replied shyly.

"Well, _look_ what the cat dragged in," Gillian quipped, approaching them slowly; a long cigarette holder in her right hand, it's smoke circling her head like a volcano that was about to erupt.

"Meow to you too," Reese retorted, still smiling- but that was for Tommy's sake only- while Jimmy coughed to stifle his own grin. "So nice to see you again."

Gillian glared at her then turned to her son. "Leander called this morning. He isn't feeling well and won't be in," she reported. "We've been doing puzzles, haven't we Tommy?" smiling at the boy in a way that made Reese very uncomfortable.

"Puzzles, huh?" Jimmy asked enthusiastically. "What kinda puzzles? Can Daddy play, too?"

"Yay!"

The group made their way out of the foyer and into the large great room, Tommy skipping ahead of everyone else, where there were various board games and puzzles spread out all over the floor next to a long row of windows. The child grabbed his father's hand, and lead him to the one he'd been working on with his grandmother, while Gillian meandered over to the wet bar. Reese wasn't sure what to do, so she hovered next to a chaise lounge, her hands neatly folded out front- her standard pose for addressing the jury; confident yet not overly so. She watched Jimmy and the child on the floor, joking and laughing as they tried to finish the picture; Jimmy purposely putting the wrong pieces in place upside-down and letting the boy "fix" them.

"Good afternoon," Richard said throatily, suddenly next to her.

"Hello Richard," she blushed, still somewhat embarrassed about her behavior the previous afternoon.

"I'm glad. You're back."

"I don't usually do that, you know," Reese offered, her color deepening.

"Crawl out windows?"

"No," she grinned sheepishly. "Get so emotional. It's not like me at all. I don't know what came over me."

"I do," he replied meaningfully and Reese knew that he must've seen her too. She was caught off guard and anxious to change the subject.

"What a lovely child," she said wistfully. It was nice to see this side of Jimmy; so tender and playful, and she was delighted that he shared it with her.

"Yes. He's a good. Boy."

She wanted to know more. Wanted to know why the child lived here and not with his father, who clearly adored him. She glanced thoughtfully across the room at Gillian; her back to everyone, arms folded with drink in hand, staring out the window. _Did she take this child from him?_ But, as much as she wanted to ask Richard, she knew that it wasn't his story to tell. Jimmy felt comfortable enough to bring her here, she'd have to have faith that he would tell her himself. He looked over at her suddenly, as if he knew she was thinking of him, and gave her a friendly smirk.

"You can sit down, ya know," he joked at his poor manners. "Can I getcha anything?" But before Reese could say no, he was calling the butler, "Langston!"

"No, thank you. Really, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

She nodded.

"Well, at least sit down."

Reese obeyed and lowered herself onto the chaise. Richard sank into the chair next to her and picked up the newspaper that was on the end table, offering her a section. Reese accepted it graciously and pretended to read about the remnants of the storm, all the while glancing up repeatedly at Jimmy. She couldn't take her eyes off of him.

After about an hour, the butler appeared in the door announcing that lunch was ready and the group retired to the dining room. Jimmy pulled out the chair for Reese and Gillian watched in disgust. They ate their soup and sandwiches mostly in silence; Tommy slurping occasionally as a noodle slid off of his spoon before he could bring it up to his mouth; Jimmy using his napkin to dab at the boy's shirt to catch any spots before they caused a stain; Richard cutting his ham and cheese into several smaller pieces and eating only one out of politeness- he'd have the rest in the privacy of his room later.

Langston was clearing the plates as Jimmy stood to take Tommy upstairs for his nap.

"C'mon kiddo," a euphemism he'd never be able to shed, "Say good-bye to everyone."

"Come give Mama a kiss," Gillian coaxed.

"Ma! Stop confusin' him-you're his grandmother. How many times do we have to have this discussion?"

Gillian feigned a look of innocence, batting her eyelashes at him, while Jimmy guardedly ushered the boy out of the room. Her countenance changed the moment her son was out of ear shot. She narrowed her eyes and scowled at Reese.

"I know what you're trying to pull, and I don't like it."

"Excuse me?" Reese countered. Trudy Forrester may have been a snobby bitch, but this woman was twisted on a whole other level.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm a guest of your son."

"I'll bet you are."

"You don't even know me."

"_Know you_? I don't have to know you…I know all about girls like you. Trying to get your claws on his money. Well, sweet heart, that's not gonna happen."

"Speaking from experience?" Reese ventured slyly.

Richard was silently watching the sparing match, impressed at how Reese was holding her own. Gillian slowly shook her head from side to side condescendingly.

"Not shy are we? So…let's see if I'm right here…You read up on the last one and lured my son into 'saving you' (she used her fingers to make quotation marks in the air). Thought you'd take advantage of his weakness?"

This was getting interesting. Reese could understand her being somewhat protective of Jimmy-given his widower status at such a young age- but was at a loss with regard to the rest of Gillian's accusations. She tried to put on her courtroom poker face, but the other woman could tell she'd struck a nerve.

"Oh, _come on!_" she laughed fiendishly, "It was all over the papers. Not that it was sad to see her go…"

Richard clenched a fist under the table, trying his hardest not to lose his temper, while Reese glared at her, saying nothing. This woman was on a roll- there was no need to ask her anything as she clearly relished the opportunity to tell Reese more, thinking it would somehow hurt her. Knowing when to back off was a trick she'd often used on the witness stand and served her well many times.

"Tragic really," Gillian continued nonchalantly, "For Jimmy, of course. _And_ Tommy. But for her…hmph…frankly she got what was coming to her. They both did." She stopped waiting for Reese to respond. She'd baited her enough, the 'what happened' was inevitable. But Gillian didn't know who she was up against.

"It's disturbing how little you value human life," Reese said calmly. "You seem to delight in the suffering of others, your own son in particular. It's sad, really, it is."

Richard would have hugged her, but he wasn't an affectionate man so he stayed in his seat. Gillian, for once in her life, was speechless. They heard a shuffling down the hall, as Jimmy made his way back to them. He leaned casually in the door way, looking warmly at Reese.

"What'd I miss?"

"Nothing at all," she beamed.


	24. Chapter 24

They stayed at the mansion until Tommy was in bed for the evening; Reese toying with Gillian the remainder of the day by being extraordinarily nice towards her; Richard secretly enjoying every minute of it watching her squirm; Jimmy focused on the little one and oblivious to the whole thing. The ride back to the beach house was quiet, both of them reflecting on the day. She was elated while he was brooding and trying to hide it from her.

Reese was in the bathroom brushing her hair when Jimmy knocked on the bedroom door frame.

"In here…" she called.

He walked into the room, lingering on the rug in front of the bathroom. He looked down at it, then up at Reese. Her back was towards him however she could still see his face through the reflection in the mirror. She sighed happily and smiled at him, but he looked forlorn; exhausted.

"We need to talk," he said grimly.

_Uh-oh_. She didn't like the sound of that. She put down the brush and slowly walked towards him. He took her by the hand and they sat on the edge of the bed. Reese tried to hide her anxiety, but her eyes were wide and her heart was racing.

"He's an exceptional child, Jimmy," she began, hoping to at least have an opportunity to tell him that before he lowered the gauntlet. "You're so good with him," she added softly.

"That's what I gotta talk to you about," Jimmy said, his face twisted and his own stomach in knots. "Reese, I…," he paused hesitantly and swallowed hard. "Lemme ask you somethin'. Where'd ya think I was goin' every day when I left here?"

"I assumed some type of work." she shrugged, "Here I am…dropping in and disrupting your life. With the exception of last night, you didn't seem entirely happy about that so…I didn't want to pry."

"I'm sorry," he sighed heavily, "I didn't want to push you away but I had to. It's…complicated. I was tryin' to protect you."

"From what?" They were seated side-by-side and she gently put her hand on his shoulder.

"From…me," he hung his head, some of his hair falling into his eyes. When Jimmy looked back over at her they were glazed over. He blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay but it was no use.

"Don't," she whispered, "Don't say that." Reese dabbed her thumb at the corner of his left eye, trying to brush away the tears but he recoiled and wouldn't let her touch him.

"But it's true," he croaked.

There were so many things he wanted to say, but he didn't know where to start. The last five years were a blur, a whirl wind of disasters. But he'd let her in now, and that put her at risk. Even if their time together was limited, he still owed it to her to tell her the truth; to give her the option of walking away before it was too late- if it wasn't already. At the same time, the thought that she'd take him up on that offer was equally as crushing. He distraughtly shook his head at himself, completely overcome.

Reese couldn't stand to see him so upset. She reached out to him again, and this time he let her, leaning his head down onto her lap. She cradled it in her arms; his hot tears pooling on her skirt and she held him tighter with each muffled sob.

"Sssh," she cooed softly, stroking his neck and shoulders.

This went on for a good twenty minutes and then he was silent; his breathing slowly becoming more regulated and Reese thought maybe he'd cried himself to sleep. But then Jimmy rolled onto his side and looked helplessly up at her, his eyes puffy and rimmed in pink.

"Tell me what's troubling you. Please…" she begged. "Let me help you."

And Reese stayed up with him all night as he divulged almost everything. He started by telling her how he'd met Angela and how Tommy was conceived just before his enlistment. He went on to tearfully describe some of the War; how he'd been injured and how he'd wished for a long time that it had killed him…that a part of him _was _gone. She held him close when he needed her to, stopping to catch his breath every now and then, stopping to reflect and regroup when the memories were just too painful.

After awhile, despite her best efforts, Reese's shoulders started to cramp from leaning over. She tried to discretely shift, but he felt it, so they moved to the top of the bed; lying face to face and nestling deep under the covers in their own little world. He told her about Nucky and his father; the whole sorted affair of his own conception, and Reese felt slightly more empathy towards his mother. She'd interject from time to time, but otherwise let him do most of the talking. He was growing hoarse- drained both physically and emotionally, so she suggested that they get some rest. No, he replied, adamant about continuing; if he didn't tell her now he might lose his courage and never get it back again.

He attempted to explain what life was like for him when he finally got out of the hospital, re-connecting with Angela and getting to know Tommy; trying to be a father when he was barely a man himself. He tried in vain to find respectable work to support his family but couldn't because of his disability and when Nucky passed him over for that sap Paddy Ryan and it sent him right over the edge.

Jimmy knew that he could trust her so he told of Al, of Chicago, of Pearl; weeping again at his own culpability in her death. He confided that Angela and Nucky had collectively broken what was left of his heart; one fell in love with someone else while the other never loved him in the first place. He told her of the coup against Nucky, his continued acts of betrayal towards the man who basically raised him…his mother and biological father acting as puppet masters, manipulating him all the while but he was too blinded by anger to see it. He shamefully relayed his business affairs, his ever-changing partnerships and alliances leaving a trail of enemies. And then there was the warehouse explosion and his mounting debt from the fall-out.

He explained how Angela eventually married him, but only for the boy's sake, choking out the words and falling to pieces. Reese knew it wasn't true- that the woman wouldn't have gone to such trouble to contact her if she didn't care- but she couldn't tell him that, she thought regretfully.

When Jimmy collected himself he began to tell her the story of Angela's death. How she found herself in someone else's arms again. At first he blamed her, but not anymore, he'd ignored her for months. His wife shared their bed with another- a woman - and he wasn't there when the two were murdered…right there in the very room they were in...just outside the bathroom. The intruder came for him, but found the lovers instead. Her life was priceless- certainly worth the measly five thousand dollars he owed- but Jimmy was so stubborn and trying to prove a point but now…he couldn't remember what it was.

Reese was stunned and heartbroken. His voice was raspy- barely audible- but Jimmy continued. Every syllable an effort the words poured out of him; the self-blame; the resolve to protect the child- he couldn't lose Tommy too. He stopped just short of telling her how he killed his father. Although it didn't excuse his other crimes that one was partially done in self-defense, but it meant he'd also have to tell her why he was quarreling with his mother and that…that was something he just couldn't bring himself to do.

"I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn'ta let it go that far but you…I just…Reese, I just couldn't stop myself. But you didn't know the truth about me and that wasn't fair to you," Jimmy finally concluded. "I'm goin' to hell…I don't wanna drag you down with me. You're a good person-You should leave, it's not safe here. I'll putcha up at the Ritz…wherever ya want. It's not safe here…it's not safe…"

He mumbled the last words repeatedly as he drifted off into a fitful sleep.


	25. Chapter 25

Reese couldn't sleep. Devastated, she tried to process everything he'd said. The guilt, the blame, she could relate to it all. Stuck in the past and holding on tightly when she should have let Charlotte go a long time ago. She understood now how the child couldn't cross over, and why Angela couldn't either. But as for herself, she didn't plan on going anywhere. She was in too deep, cared too much for this man-child…this broken toy soldier to abandon him. The moonlight shone slightly through the lace curtains, reflecting off his dewy, alabaster skin. _You're stuck with me now_.

Morning came and she found herself feeling surprisingly energized despite the events of the previous evening. She'd passed out in her clothes, her right hand on Jimmy's heart. She wasn't sure when she dozed off but, glancing at the clock on the bedside table and seeing it was after 9 am, figured she must've at least gotten four or five hours of sleep. Jimmy was snoring lightly, his nose stuffed. She patted his head gently, some of the pomade sticking to her hand and she smiled to herself as she rubbed her fingers together. She quietly tip toed out of the room to get herself breakfast, letting him catch up on some much needed shut eye.

She made some coffee and toast, nibbling away and perusing the paper that was left on the kitchen door step. When she was finished, she returned to the bedroom, gathering a change of clothes so she could freshen up in the hall bathroom and not disturb him. But Jimmy's lashes fluttered open as she was nearing the door to leave and he winced at his dry, cotton mouth. His eyes were red and swollen.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she said softly, concerned at the look of pain he conveyed when he swallowed.

"It's okay," he faintly whispered.

Reese hung the dress in her hand on the bedroom door knob. "The kettle's still hot. Can I get you some tea?" she asked in a nurturing tone.

He looked at her thankfully and gave a slight nod. She came back to the room a few minutes later.

"I put some honey in it…that should soothe your throat a little," she explained as she helped him to sit upright, propping him up with a pillow.

Jimmy was flabbergasted. After everything he'd said, he expected to awake finding her things packed and waiting by the front door. It showed on his face and she knew what he was thinking.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said, squeezing his hand.

"But-"

"-No 'buts'…" she cut him off before he could finish. "You saved my life. _Twice._ The first time, you didn't even know me. You're a far better person than you give yourself credit for. I wish you could see that." She sat down on the edge of the bed and cupped his cheek, "I watched you with Tommy yesterday. He adores you- it was heartwarming. You're a good man, James Darmody, and nothing you could say would make me think otherwise."

She wasn't blind. He'd evidently been in business with some of the most notorious gangsters of the day; she was floored when he mentioned Luciano and Lansky in addition to Capone. But that was over, and Jimmy's name was not the one in the history books. His was not the story they made into movies like the Godfather or Goodfellas, yet for Reese, it was the only story that mattered.

Jimmy sipped his tea in silence, his throat burning and his muscles sore- wound up tighter than a spring and throbbing all over. He leaned his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes.

"Can I draw you a bath?" she offered, taking the empty cup from him.

"That'd be swell."

And soon he could hear the water gushing into the claw-foot tub. He stretched and yawned, sleepily getting out of bed and padding over to the bathroom; taking a giant step over the rug so he didn't touch it. Jimmy pulled off his t-shirt and started on his trousers; Reese blushing but not leaving the room. He lowered himself in, instantly relaxing and letting out a sigh of relief as he closed his weary eyes. She added some of her lavender soap to the water, the heavenly scent and bubbles enveloping him.

Reese held a towel in her hand. Rolling it into a pillow, she placed it under the nape of his neck. She walked over to the sink and dampened a washcloth with cool water, folding into a band and placing it over his swollen, tired eyes. Then she pulled over the small chair that was next to the door and sat by his head, gingerly rubbing his temples with her thumbs.

After a few minutes, she took another washcloth and gently drizzled it over his head, the warm water trickling down onto his shoulders. Then she took a dab of shampoo and worked it into a thick lather, all ten fingers soothingly massaging his scalp. She leaned forward, close to his ear.

"Thank you for trusting me enough to confide in me."

"Mmm…"

"I only wish you had done it sooner. We only have two weeks together… Let's make it count."

"I don't know if I can."

"I'm not asking you to forget the past. But I want to see your smile again. Let me make you happy, Jimmy."

"What if somethin' happens? I don't wantcha to get hurt."

"Sshh," she soothed him, soaking the washcloth and starting to rinse his hair. She lowered the rag again, squeezing the excess water over his chest. "The danger is gone…nothing's going to happen."

Jimmy desperately wanted to believe her. Manny had been apprehended, Richard took care of it…done what he didn't have the strength to do that first week after his meeting with Nucky and got to him before the butcher had a chance to go into hiding. Yet still…there were others; Waxy, Rothstein, not to mention Eli getting released from prison in the near future. But every decision he'd made that he thought was right ended up being horribly wrong. Maybe it would be better if he did the opposite of what he was thinking.

"Let me _take care of you_," Reese insisted, her voice low and purring. She watched his chest rise and fall as he took a long, slow breath.

"I'll try…" he yielded, plunging himself under the water unexpectedly. He sat up a few seconds later, pushing his wet hair away from his face and rubbing his eyes. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

After his bath Reese led him back to the bed. His creamy skin glistening as she nudged him backwards until he was flat on his back, his arms behind his head. She peppered kisses all over his chest, working her way down his torso. She circled each of his hips with her tongue and he let out of soft moan, his eyes closed and his heart racing; blood pulsing through his veins, his breath hitching with every deliciously wet stroke. Then she spread out his legs, softly kissing his scars; gingerly tracing her fingers over each one and Jimmy was becoming undone, shaking and tingling in places he'd long thought he'd never feel again. And then she took him in her mouth, the French way, and made his head spin, so much so that he gripped the blankets underneath them.

"Oh…" he groaned throatily, tapping the top of her head to alert her that he was almost there.

She followed his cue, curling up next to him when he released; sucking on his ear lobe as he quivered in ecstasy.

"Feeling more relaxed?" she teased, grazing her index finger over his chest.

"Wow…" he exhaled, eyeing her lustfully as he tried to catch his breath and she leaned her head on his left shoulder. Reese was moving her hand down towards the scars on his ribs, but Jimmy playfully grabbed her wrist. He couldn't let her go there, but he didn't want her to stop touching him. "Whatcha wanna do today?"

Reese looked out the window and onto the beach. "Maybe we could go for a walk before you see Tommy? If you're feeling up to it, that is. How's your leg?"

"It hasn't been so bad lately, which is strange-it usually starts acting up this time a'year," he replied. "I'd like you to come with me to the mansion. I mean…if that's okay with you," Jimmy blushed.

"I'd love to," she smiled. She stood up and sauntered over to the door, where her dress was still hanging from earlier.

It was late morning when the two were finally ready for the day, stepping out of the house and onto the sand. Jimmy told her that Tommy was being tutored, so Reese didn't feel guilty about taking the boy away from his father. The air was crisp, the wind gentle as it swept across the sand. She always loved the ocean, and the tide was nearly high; the rush of the waves providing a calming soundtrack to their conversation.

"Do you miss it?" Jimmy asked as they strolled along the shoreline.

"Miss what?"

"Home."

"It's funny, but no. Not as much as I thought I would," Reese began. "It's so quiet here. Sure I miss little modern luxuries here and there, but…I've had a lot of time to just stop and think."

"What do you think about?"

"The baby," she said quietly. She was getting a little chilly, so she rubbed her hands together. Jimmy took her right one, kissed it, and put it in his pocket. "I never really had a chance to process it all. I took some time off of work, but that was mostly to recover from the fall not for bereavement. Instead I threw myself into my cases; hiding behind my files. I didn't even think about Bryce…how it was affecting him. Cost me my marriage…turns out Kate was a really good listener."

"Well, I think _you're_ a pretty good listener."

"Thanks."

They continued on in silence for a few minutes, Reese tilting her chin slightly up and taking in the scent of the sea.

"I had a dream about her," she blurted out. She didn't dare tell him the rest of the dream, but she smiled indicating that it was pleasant.

"When?"

"A few nights ago…"

"Oh," he murmured, remorsefully recalling that she'd tried to tell him that the morning the storm broke.

Sensing his uneasiness, Reese stopped and turned to face him. She was getting to be able to read him like a book.

"Two weeks. No regrets. Okay?"

"Yes, M'aam."


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: Thanks again to everyone who's read and reviewed :) This thing has taken on a life of its own, but I hope you are all enjoying reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. As always, comments/reviews/constructive criticism welcome. **

The next few days were blissfully uneventful. Jimmy preferred sticking to his routine of going to the mansion during the day, while spending his nights at the beach and Reese happily went along with it. He liked being near her and often found himself thinking about her the brief moments when they were apart.

_Don't get too used to it. _But Jimmy knew it was a losing battle and he felt himself falling.

She was intelligent and soft spoken, with an infectious laugh. Her eyes sparkled when she was really enthusiastic about her topic. She was insightful when describing her employment, thoughtful when reflecting on her baby, playful with Tommy. She looked at Richard directly when she spoke to him, treating his dear friend with the respect that he deserved but was not afforded to him by many others, including, at times, his mother.

She coexisted with Gillian in a way that Angela never had. Jimmy couldn't place it, but each woman seemed to tolerate the other- his mother didn't have the upper hand and he wasn't used to seeing that. While she was no shrinking violet, her verbal jabs diminished as did her dirty looks with each passing day.

Reese would lie beside him at night, his head resting on her shoulder as she read poetry aloud- Shelley, Keats, Byron. Her voice was like music, and his heart swelled at the sound. They'd make love- glorious, passionate love- some nights two or three times, leaving each breathless in glowing satisfaction. Then, afterwards, he'd nuzzle against her, drifting off in her arms.

And he slept. Not a half sleep, nor was he haunted by visions. But a deep, restful sleep that his body hadn't felt in years. A weight had been lifted. The heavy, crushing guilt was dispelling, and he was surprisingly at peace.

He hadn't spoken to his wife since he saw her ghost on the Boardwalk. Jimmy didn't understand what she wanted, but he was glad that he came home that night. He was so determined to find Reese that he could have easily been out searching for her until dawn, unknowing that she'd returned to the house. Fate was a strong word; it had been too cruel to him in the past. Still, it was a happy coincidence.

Thanksgiving was nearing, so he and Richard took Tommy pheasant hunting the morning before. He taught him how to track and aim, the little one hanging on his every word; eternally grateful to be anywhere off the estate with his father. The pursuit was a success, and they would have two birds in addition to turkey with all the trimmings. When they got back to the mansion, Jimmy surprised the child by letting Richard out to take the game to the chef, while he took the boy up to the midway on the Boardwalk. They played games and got ice cream, and there was chocolate smeared all over Tommy's face when they sat down for dinner that evening.

"James, he's a mess," Gillian scowled when the boy tramped into the dining room.

"Chocolate was always my favorite, too," Reese cooed to Tommy, bending down and dabbing his cheeks with a cloth napkin.

"That tickles," he laughed.

"It _does_?" She smiled widely, poking him in the stomach with her index finger as he squealed in delight.

Jimmy stood in the archway, watching the two of them, and Richard joined him.

"I didn't appreciate it," he said to his friend.

"Mmpph?"

"You once asked me what it felt like to have everything," Jimmy shrugged. "I never answered you."

"He seemed to. Enjoy himself. Today."

"Yeah…there's a parade on the Boardwalk tomorrow. I think I might take him to see Santa Claus."

"Really Daddy!?" Tommy beamed, having been listening to the discussion with supersonic hearing.

"Would ya like that, pal?"

"Yay! Can she come?" Tommy asked looking from his father to Reese, who turned a deep red. She opened her mouth to excuse herself, but Jimmy spoke first.

"Sure," he smiled.

"Me-mawh too?" Gillian asked sweetly, not to be left out.

"Yeah…we'll all go," Jimmy replied, patting Richard on the back.

And they did. They bundled up, Gillian in a long mink coat and matching hat; Reese more conservative but no less stunning; Tommy in a navy peacoat and wool cap; Jimmy flawless as usual; and Richard- having been raised in Wisconsin- was used to much cooler temperatures for that time of year and couldn't see what all the fuss was about. They heading out early and Jimmy paid one of the shop owners to hold a place for them at a good vantage point. The parade went on all morning, Tommy sitting on his father's shoulders, clapping wildly at each passing float. They were quite a sight to be seen, a sight that didn't go unnoticed.


	27. Chapter 27

The Thanksgiving dinner was a feast like no other. The turkey was succulent and the pheasant delectable; the chef having prepared it by draping thick slices of crisp bacon over the breast. The potatoes were smashed to perfection and the gravy was smooth- not a lump to be found. There was an array of pies for dessert- pumpkin, sweet potato, and apple; Tommy asking for a slither of all three as he couldn't make up his mind. Reese was passing him a plate when he noticed her rings.

"Sparkly!" he exclaimed, the brilliant diamond catching the chandelier's light and nearly blinding him. "Did Daddy give that to you?"

Gillian snickered and Reese bit her lip, unsure of what to say. She used her thumb to twist the diamond down facing her palm.

"Tommy," Jimmy said sternly, "Mind your manners!"

"Sorry, Daddy," he pouted and looked just like his father.

"Don't apologize to me, pal. What do you say to Reese?"

"I'm sorry," his eyes huge and welling up in embarrassment.

"It's okay, sweetie," Reese smiled. "Hey, I betcha can't eat all that pie…" she winked getting a smirk out of him.

After dinner they retired to the great room where the hearth blazing. Tommy wanted to play with his toy soldiers, so he and Jimmy spread out an epic battle on the floor. Richard was no match for the tryptophan in the turkey, and snoozed in an armchair next to the fire. Gillian helped herself to the brandy and took her usual place on the chaise, while Reese sat across from Richard paging through the Sears Christmas catalog. The advertisements looked like something right out of a Norman Rockwell painting, and she smiled to herself thinking that it was entirely possible that they were some of Mr. Rockwell's _originals_.

Full from the dinner and exhausted from the day's festivities, it wasn't long before Tommy grew sleepy. The more he tried to fight it, the crankier he became but he refused to go to bed.

"I don't _wanna_!" he protested, defiantly crossing his arms across his chest.

"This is not a negotiation," Jimmy firmly replied, "C'mon…up with you."

"No!" he stamped his foot, startling Richard but not enough to wake him.

"Tommy, I'm gonna count to three. One…two…"

"I want her to do it," the child said slyly, smiling impishly in Reese's direction. "I'll go up, but I want her to read me a story first."

Jimmy huffed, exasperated but also secretly pleased that the boy was so clever- although his assertiveness was annoying at the moment it would serve him well in the future.

"_Pah-leez_ Reese," Tommy continued, batting his long lashes.

"Would you mind?" she asked Jimmy, not wanting to overstep her bounds.

"Nah…" he grinned, affectionately tousling the boy's hair. He kneeled down to Tommy's level, "G'night, buddy. Only one story, okay?"

"Yes Daddy. G'night Me-mawh," he waved as Reese took his tiny hand and lead him out of the room.

"Do you really think that's wise?" Gillian started, rising from her throne and strolling over to her son who was busy collecting Tommy's toys. Her movements were catlike and she was on the prowl.

"What?" Jimmy responded, annoyed.

"Letting him get attached to her. She'll be here, what…another week?"

"He's just being a kid," he shook his head, "He's not getting attached."

"Are you?" she purred, taking the comb out of her hair and shaking out her fiery ringlets.

"No," he lied.

"Good," she cooed. He was standing now, the box of soldiers in his hands, and she traced a finger across his chest. "I know you've been having your fun…you're certainly entitled to, darling, but I'm worried about you…I can't stand the thought of you being all alone in that house again after she's gone."

Jimmy swallowed hard. He was about to tell her to stop, but she wouldn't let him, putting her finger up to his lips. He was putty in her hands and she pushed him over to the chaise, seating him like a ragdoll then positioning herself behind him. She squeezed his shoulders, now painfully tense, circling her thumbs up and down his neck and he felt his blood run cold.

"Why don't you stay here? Tommy _needs_ you. Think about how wonderful it would be…the three of us…together…all under one roof. The way it's supposed to be. The way it was _always _supposed to be."

"I don't think so…" he squirmed.

"She's awakened something in you. I can see it…I can _feel_ it," Gillian squeezed harder and ran her fingers through his hair. "I thought I'd never see it again…" her voice was low, her hot breath on his ear.

"Jimmy…" she whispered seductively.

"What Ma," he tried to push her hand away, but she gripped his with an iron fist.

"I'll remember too…"

* * *

Reese returned to the great room astonished to see such a change in Jimmy's appearance after only a short time. His eyes were blank, his tie loosened and he was panting; experiencing a visceral reaction to Gillian's trigger. His mind had never allowed his body to undergo the after effects of their forced encounter until now and it hit him all at once. Gillian stood alone by the windows, her back to him, glancing wistfully out at the stars with a Cheshire cat grin.

"Jimmy?" she asked with alarm, quickening her pace as she crossed the room towards him. "You're not looking well." She brushed the hair out of his eyes and ran the back of her hand over his forehead, checking his temperature but there was no fever.

"My leg," he whimpered, "Must be from standing so long this morning." As usual, the pain was back with a fury; hot and concentrated at the knee, shooting pains up and down his thigh.

"Perhaps we should go," she offered and he nodded. His leg buckled as he stood, but Reese was there to catch him and he slouched in her arms. "How 'bout I drive?"

"Okay."

"Good evening, Gillian," Reese called from the hall. "Please give my regards to Richard."

"Of course dear," was the response but the other woman never even turned around.

_How can she be so cold? _

By now Reese was well familiar with the route back to the beach. The road was bumpy, and Jimmy flinched with each jolt. The car didn't have power steering, but she quickly adapted and it wasn't long before they reached their destination.

"Can I get you some ice?" she offered as she helped him up the steps.

"No, I just wanna to go to bed."

"Okay…That's it...Take it easy."

Jimmy was in a cold sweat as she helped him undress. He curled under the covers, balling up into a fetal position, while Reese hurriedly put on her nightgown.

"Jimmy, you're trembling…" she whispered softly, spooning herself against him.

"Hold me," he begged, squeezing his eyes shut. "Don't let me go."


	28. Chapter 28

Jimmy didn't move after he'd finally fallen asleep, but Reese tossed and turned. She was at the beach playground again, seated on a bench with her hands in her lap, watching the children enjoy themselves. Angela approached with Charlotte in her arms, and sat down beside her.

"I thought you might like to hold her," she smiled passing the infant to Reese, who swaddled her close.

"Thank you-" Reese started.

"-No, thank you. Tommy had a wonderful time today. It's so nice to see him out of the house," the other woman mused.

"He's adorable. A pleasure to be around," Reese looked down shamefully recalling some of their prior conversation and continued, "I'm sorry if I was skeptical the last time that we met," she apologized.

Angela smiled at her warmly and put her hand on top of one of Reese's giving it a gentle squeeze. "You're analytical, inquisitive," she complimented, "I expected nothing less." Then, becoming more serious, she added, "Jimmy…there's more, Reese."

"_More?_" She questioned.

"Yes," she glanced sideways and lowered her voice. "I really shouldn't be here, but I thought you should be prepared."

"Prepared for what?"

But Angela shook her head sadly. "I have to leave now…" Her voice trailed off and Reese woke up; her pillow in the place where she'd been cradling Charlotte.

* * *

The following morning, the pair was in the kitchen where Reese was fixing breakfast. Jimmy sat at the kitchen table, one hand cupped around his coffee mug, the other holding a cigarette, staring off into nothing. She had her back to him as she whisked the eggs around a blue ceramic bowl, adding a bit of milk and whisking some more. He hadn't said much, but she figured he was still in pain.

"That girl," he said suddenly. "Stacey- your client. Why'd you believe her?"

Reese turned on her heel to face him and he looked up at her with a hard, steely gaze.

"I don't think that anyone could make up such a story. I interviewed her myself, then again with co-counsel. It was real- she was just as much a victim as the baby. The only reason we gave her a polygraph was to support our defense with the necessary documentation. Where's all this coming from?"

Jimmy's hands started shaking violently. Reese put the bowl down on the counter and sat in the chair beside him.

"What is it?"

"No…" he looked down shamefully.

She stood up and leaned over him, crossing her arms over his chest and lowering her head down so it rested on his shoulder.

"Is this about your leg?"

"Kinda. Reese, there's a reason that I joined the army. I wasn't supposed to come back…"

And Jimmy let it all out. The party, the drinking, the fight with his professor. How he'd tried to pull away from her- at least three or four times- but she kept dragging him back down. His body couldn't resist- she'd been prepping him for years- it was his natural response, no different than an animal in heat. How she was thrilled when Angela died, throwing it in his face driving him to the point of no return until he'd done the unthinkable. Unlike his previous confessional, he spoke clearly; thoughtfully. He had no tears left to cry but Reese's face was soaked.

"You're never gonna look at me the same, are you?" Jimmy shook his head sideways; his voice a ragged monotone.

She choked back a sob. "That's not true…"

She was far from an expert in the mother department. She hadn't spoken to her own mother since the accident, believing it to be partially her fault for not keeping a closer eye on Maggie the night of the banquet. Just then, a startling calm washed over her and she hugged him tightly.

"It wasn't your fault," she assured him. "Jimmy, it wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong…"

An awkward silence followed, Jimmy smoking another cigarette and Reese too stunned to move; she wanted to scoop him up and swaddle him until he felt safe enough to believe her.

"I'm so tired," he finally said. And he was. He'd never felt so fatigued, not even when coming out of surgery.

"You've been holding that in for a long time," she said thoughtfully.

"Will you lay with me?" he asked with child-like vulnerability. He finally allowed himself to look up at her, his blue eyes flashing, begging her to say yes.

"Of course."

No sooner did his head hit the pillow and Jimmy was in a deep slumber. He slept for hours, finally awaking after dusk. He was haggard and unshaven, his hair a greasy mess.

"I can't believe I lost a whole day," he muttered groggily, pinching himself between his eyes.

"You needed to rest. How's your leg?"

He flexed his foot and slightly bent his knee. "A little stiff, but that's all," he sighed. "I gotta call Tommy, poor kid was expecting us hours ago."

"I spoke with Richard earlier. I told him you weren't feeling well- I hope you don't mind."

Jimmy caressed her cheek. "You're perfect, ya know that?"

"I'm not perfect," Reese replied, thinking of the Jag and the irony of that statement. "But I'm okay with that," she smiled.

He sat up in bed and turned on the lamp on the bedside table, the soft light warming the natural highlights in her chestnut hair. His cigarettes were on the table as well, and he reached for one, taking a long drag. "Tell me about the future," he said as he exhaled.

Given his current frame of mind, she thought it best to leave out the bad parts- all of the wars and the attacks on Pearl Harbor and September 11th- and, while the Depression would hit during his lifetime she'd spare her financial advice for another discussion before she left. Instead she told him how they'd put a man on the moon, about talking movies and television and the internet, about the advances in medicine and Civil Rights. There was a lot of good in her world, but she didn't want to overwhelm him when he was already so fragile. He listened attentively, asking questions here and there, welcoming the distraction and lighter conversation.

They had a late, light supper of turkey sandwiches, and spent the remainder of the evening listening to the Victrola.


	29. Chapter 29

The following day was Saturday. Jimmy got up before Reese, and showered in the hall bathroom. He felt filthy and disgusting. He let the scalding hot water pour over him, scrubbing so hard his skin was pink. He knew he'd never be able to wash it away; he wasn't sure why he even tried anymore. But today was a new day and he had to try harder. Reese was amazing and he couldn't understand why, after everything, she hadn't bolted already.

Jimmy returned to the bedroom with a towel around his waist, smelling of aftershave and cologne, his baby face fresh and smooth. Reese was sleeping on her side; her bow-shaped mouth curled up, clearly dreaming of something pleasant.

"Hey…" she whispered, blinking.

"Hey."

The morning sun was streaming in, casting an aura over her as she rubbed her sleepy eyes. Jimmy admired her soft skin, only a fraction of a shade darker than her silk nightgown, and felt a stirring deep within him. She'd seen him at his worst, been there in his darkest hours; her sweet, reassuring voice lulling him back to serenity. But she would be leaving soon, taking a piece of his heart with her. He missed her already and she hadn't even left yet. He didn't want to waste anymore of their time together.

"Feeling better?" she asked, stretching her arms above her head.

"Much better," he said, eyeing her hungrily as he walked towards her.

Then Jimmy showed her just how much he appreciated her. Afterwards, they snuggled in a post-coital cocoon under the covers.

"Jimmy," she whispered, "I have an idea of what we could do today."

_Can't we just stay like this? _

"What's that?"

"Well…" Reese started.

And just when Jimmy thought she couldn't surprise him, she proved him wrong. As it turned out, she'd spoken to Richard at length the previous day. She assured him that she hadn't divulged any specifics and expressed only concern for his well being. Provided that his leg wasn't bothering him too much, she suggested that they take Tommy to cut down a Christmas tree…for the beach house. They agreed she was to call the mansion this morning with an update on Jimmy's condition, and decide whether or not he should bring the boy over.

Jimmy gave her a peck on the forehead. "How'd I find you?"

_Oh, Jimmy- if you only knew…_

By mid-morning their guests had arrived. Tommy hadn't seen the place in well over a year, his espresso eyes wide as he tip toed around, his little fingers glossing over every surface. They piled into the car and headed over to the mainland, where the forest was thick around the neighboring village of Smithville. Tommy picked out a reasonably sized tree and jumped up and down gleefully as his father and Richard chopped it down. Jimmy even let him take the last few swings with the ax as well, smiling proudly as Tommy toppled the white pine.

"Timm-brr!" he called, cupping his hand around his mouth.

"I did it!" the child beamed. "And all by myself, too!"

"Good job, pal," Jimmy grinned.

It felt good to be out of the house again, the crisp, cold air in his lungs. He shuffled back to the car and got some rope out of the trunk. Richard helped him secure it to the roof, as well as take it down and into the house when they arrived back at the beach.

"Hope this fits in the house," he muttered as they made their way up the steps, Jimmy holding the top of the tree; Richard the trunk.

"A little late. For that. Don't you think?" replied the other man.

The men set up the tree in front of the living room window, while Reese took Tommy back to the kitchen. She found a cook book in one of the drawers, and was eager to try the recipe for gingerbread cookies that was dog-eared. A lot of the pages were marked, and she wondered if this meant the recipes were Angela's favorites or ones that she wanted to try. The dough needed to rest before being rolled out and cut into gingerbread men to hang on the tree, and the pair spent this time stringing popcorn and cranberries to use as garland. Jimmy could hear them giggling as he added fresh logs to the hearth.

Between the tree, the cookies, the popcorn, and the fire, the whole house smelled fantastic and Jimmy wanted to bottle it up. He poured himself a drink and one for Richard, remembering the straw, and they sat by the fire before dinner. There were still plenty of Thanksgiving leftovers, and Richard brought a few packages with him which Reese was warming up in the oven. After supper, they began decorating the tree, Jimmy holding Tommy up to the highest boughs so he could encircle the garland.

"This is so much fun, Daddy!"

"I'm glad you like it, buddy."

"Me-mawh doesn't let me touch the tree at our house," he frowned and Jimmy felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. The sadness was soon replaced with the sound of Jingle Bells from the piano in the far corner of the room, where Richard was seated; his head bowed in deep concentration as he tried to remember the notes without the benefit of sheet music. Reese gave Tommy a dinner bell to ring as she started on the melody, her voice cracking as she tried not to laugh.

"I didn't know you played," Jimmy said when the song was over. He'd bought the piano for Angela- a combination housewarming and wedding present. She didn't play, but she loved the classics and wanted Tommy to learn.

"My sister. Taught me."

"Swell. Do ya know anything else?"

Richard nodded. He would have smiled if he were able to. Instead, he cracked his knuckles and started on an instrumental rendition of 'Hark The Herald Angels Sing,' keeping the tempo slower than usual.

Reese stood by the window, admiring both the tree and the midnight sky. She had her arms folded across herself, and Jimmy moved in close behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling the back of her neck. Tommy, meanwhile, was still dancing around the tree with his bell.

"Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings…" she smiled.

"That's a nice thought," Jimmy whispered.

"I wish I could claim it as my own, but it's from one of my favorite Christmas movies."

"What's that?"

"It's A Wonderful Life."

"Yeah…I guess it is."

"No," she chuckled, "That's the name of the movie."

"Oh," he said softly, affectionately petting her hair and twirling his fingers around the ends.

"They're dreadful, I know. I'm in desperate need of a trim," she said. "I'll have to make an appointment when I get home."

_But, Reese, you ARE home. _

Jimmy was on the verge of saying so out loud when his thoughts were interrupted by his son.

"Daddy, look!" Tommy shouted suddenly, pointing to the window. "A shooting star. Wow!"

Jimmy bent down to the boy's level and watched as an iridescent beam flashed across the sky. Flying along the horizon, it left a glittering trail before disappearing over the ocean.

"Did ya make a wish Tommy?"

"Uh-huh," the little one smiled.

"Good. Don't tell anybody or it won't come true."

"Okay Daddy. Did you make a wish?"

"Yeah, pal," Jimmy smirked, glancing over at Reese. "Yeah, I did."


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Notes: So this last update will conclude our tale. Special thanks to ILoveThee, SachikoisGreato, coliemcnoly, and LadyOfWinterfellAbbey (as well as everyone else) for sticking with me. I originally started writing this after the third season aired, mostly for my own amusement and also to work through some unresolved Jimmy feels. Don't get me wrong…S3 was great, but I still found myself missing him sometimes. In any event, you can imagine my surprise and delight in finding out that, not only were other people reading my fic, but they also liked it. Hope you like the ending. **

Tommy wanted to sleep over that night, but, as much as Jimmy wanted to allow that, it meant he'd have to at least call the mansion so Gillian would know not to expect the boy back and he didn't feel like having to deal with her at the moment. The day was near perfect and he wasn't going to allow her to ruin it. Richard offered to tell her, going back to the house alone, but Jimmy didn't want to burden him. He knew just how vicious his mother could be, and he wasn't going to put that on his friend. Ultimately, the boy fell asleep on the couch, and he gingerly carried him out to Richard's car while he was snoozing.

On Sunday Jimmy awoke with a buzzing he hadn't felt in a long time. He lay on his back, his lips curling into a smile. He stared over at Reese, dreaming on her stomach, her hair undone; bangs grazing over her eye, and he smiled even wider. It was almost as if she felt it, because she looked up and brushed some stray locks away from her face.

"Good morning," she cooed.

"It is a good morning," he said. "And it's gonna be a good day, too."

"Is it now?" Reese teased.

"I wanna take you out. We'll paint the town- go Christmas shoppin', out to dinner, see a show…anything ya want."

"That sounds nice."

"It will be," Jimmy promised, squeezing her hand under the sheets. "But we have a lot of ground to cover," he continued eagerly, "Do you mind if we have breakfast at my mother's first? I wanna at least see Tommy for a little while."

"Not at all. He was very helpful yesterday with the cookies, you know."

"Yeah, I heard you two laughing. What was so funny?"

"Oh, we were playing a game. His gingerbread men were racing my gingerbread men across the kitchen table. For _some _reason, his kept winning," she giggled. "He's a good kid…" she continued, her face growing serious and her eyes clouding over.

"It's okay to miss her," Jimmy said, fingering along her bracelet.

"I know, but…it's more than that," Reese frowned. "There were complications as a result of the fall. I had a lot of internal damage and…the doctors said I can't…that I can never…"

She didn't finish her sentence, but Jimmy understood enough to know what she couldn't do and he ached for her. It just didn't seem right.

"C'mhere," he said softly, running his hand along her cheek.

"Sorry," she cleared her throat and quickly regrouped.

"On second thought," Jimmy whispered, slowly kissing her neck, "let's have breakfast _here_."

He took her low moan in response as a yes and proceeded in devouring every inch of her.

* * *

They stopped briefly at the mansion before embarking on a whirlwind shopping excursion. They strode along the Boardwalk, their arms filled with packages for Tommy, and Reese was so happy she thought she'd float away. She relished window-shopping too, each store front competing with the next for the best Christmas display; the Salvation Army Santa Claus ringing his bell loudly in the background.

Jimmy's leg seemed to be doing a lot better, and, although she offered to stop and rest whenever they passed a bench or pavilion, he always wanted to keep going. He had one of his arms around her waist, and she liked how it felt.

They were approaching the Palmist and she gulped. She knew as well as he did that the full moon was the following night. They were enjoying themselves so much that she didn't want to put a damper on things. Still, Angela had told her that Madame Celeste would give her more information and there was no time like the present.

"Do you mind if we stop in? Just for a few minutes…" she looked at him longingly.

"Nah, we're here anyway. Might as well."

Reese felt a jolt as she grasped the doorknob. She carefully opened it, Jimmy close behind her, and looked around the seemingly empty shop.

"Come in, Darling…" said Madame Celeste, appearing at the back of the room. She motioned towards the table and the three sat down. "You're making out well, yes?"

Reese shot Jimmy a sideways look. She'd never told him about her dreams or her encounter with Angela and wondered whether or not that was a mistake. She also hoped that the medium wouldn't spill the beans and make a fool out of her.

"No, child. I won't …" Celeste said out of nowhere.

Reese had forgotten about her powers of telepathy. She smiled appreciatively and shrugged. "Yes…I think so," she finally answered her.

"You _think_ so?"

"Well," Reese started, thinking of Jimmy's harrowing confessions, "yes."

"Mmm," the other woman nodded. "But you are missing something."

"Pardon?"

"Ah-ah-ah," Celeste smiled and shook her head.

"Please no more guessing games," Reese said, exasperated.

"What kinda business are you runnin' anyway?" Jimmy interjected protectively, anxious help Reese even if she didn't need it.

Celeste looked from Jimmy to Reese, and met the other woman's eyes. "One is gone, the other remains," she told her matter-of-factly.

Reese mouthed the words, repeating them in her head, while Jimmy looked completely confused.

"_You_," the psychic emphasized to Reese, "You are missing something. Come back when you figure it out."

With that Celeste rose and looked towards the exit.

"What? That's it?" Jimmy questioned. "That's all you're gonna tell her?"

"She already knows the answer Mr. Darmody. She knows it in her heart."

"What a load a' malarkey!"

The medium frowned at him and Reese reluctantly stood up and took Jimmy's hand. "Its okay, Jimmy. She means well." She was, of course, referring to Angela which Celeste understood perfectly.

"Yes, child. Yes, she does."


	31. Chapter 31

The pair left the Palmist, and Jimmy stuffed his hands in his pockets in frustration. "Crazy old bat," he muttered. "Hey," he continued as they were walking, "are you hungry?"

"Yes," Reese replied, her stomach rumbling at the thought of food. She'd had a ravenous appetite lately. Then again, she had been quite active as well- especially in the bedroom.

They stopped at Babette's Supper Club, where the hostess was more than happy to see him.

"Aye' Jimmy! Nice to see ya out and about," the sassy blonde smiled before darting her eyes to the right and lowering her voice. She wore a top hat, tilted slightly to the side, and a men's tuxedo, although it was fitted to showcase her womanly curves. She leaned forward, resting an elbow on the podium holding the menus. "Listen, kid…ya know you're always welcome here, but this may not be such a good time. Catch-my-drift?"

"Table for two," he replied and she shot him a look that said _'Are you sure?_'

When he didn't respond, she took two menus and motioned for her staff to take their coats and bags. She started to lead them towards a two-top a few feet away, but Jimmy stopped her.

"Anything on the balcony?"

"What is it with you and balconies, huh?" the other woman smiled and rolled her eyes. "Right this way…"

She gave them a prime location; a four-top table on its own balcony overlooking the stage where a large brass band was jamming. Reese could see the whole club, and her eyes were wide as she took in the sights around her- small lamps on every table as well as dazzling bulbs behind the stage. There were a few couples whirling around on the dance floor, as well as two flappers laughing wildly as they did the Charleston. Across the balcony there were more tables, as well as a larger room that appeared to be hosting a private party; throngs of scantily clad women flanking both sides of the guest-of-honor seated on what Reese could only describe as a throne. _Oh, so that's him._ The man met her stare and she thought her heart stopped, her eyes quickly glancing down at the red flower on his lapel. But he wouldn't look away so she turned her attention to the menu as a further distraction.

"What do you recommend?" she asked Jimmy.

"I like the Filet."

"Make it two, then," Reese smiled and closed her menu.

She folded her arms in her lap and looked at him adoringly. The waiter came and he ordered for them.

"And how would you like yours done, Miss?"

"Medium, please."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Will that be all for now, Mr. Darmody?"

"No. Send up a bottle of your best champagne."

The waiter reddened.

"Aww, c'mon," Jimmy said, frustrated. "I know ya got some downstairs so don't even gimme that look."

"It isn't that, sir," the server stammered just as one of his colleagues approached from behind with a bottle and an ice bucket. "That's been taken care of already."

Jimmy knew exactly who sent it over. He also knew that it was better to graciously accept it, especially for Reese's sake.

"Well, that's a pleasant surprise," Reese said, putting two and two together, as the waiter opened the bottle and poured two glasses.

"Yeah…" Jimmy murmured. "So," he continued changing the subject, "did you lose somethin'?"

"Come again?"

"That crazy lady- I don't like her, by the way- she said ya lost somethin'. Any idea what she was talkin' about?"

"No, I've been thinking about that too ever since we left the Palmist. I honestly can't imagine what she means, but…she hasn't been wrong so far."

What could she be missing? She hadn't lost anything material that she could recall. She'd lost _her heart_ to Jimmy, but that seemed too obvious and she pursed her lips in deep concentration.

"Lighten up," Jimmy grinned, sorry to have vexed her. "Moon's almost full. Let's make the most of it."

"The moon _is_ almost full," she repeated.

_Wait- the moon is almost full…the moon is almost full._ Her mind was racing as she tried to recall the length of the lunar cycle. Was it twenty eight days or twenty nine? She couldn't remember that from her high school astronomy, but it reminded her of another cycle.

"Jimmy- what day is?"

"Sunday."

"I know that, but the date…what's the date?"

"The 30th."

She hadn't looked at a calendar in days. Moreover, all of her pertinent information was stored in her iPhone; Siri telling her everything from when to follow up with a client to when to pick up her dry cleaning and everything in between. Everything_._ Jimmy was raising his glass in a toast but she couldn't understand what he was saying. Reese's head was spinning as she did the math in her head, but she found herself picking up her champagne flute as well. He concluded his speech and clinked his glass against hers; his smile wide and genuine, his steely eyes full of something she was afraid to put a name to. He took a sip, as did she but she couldn't allow herself to swallow spitting it back out as discretely as possible into her glass of water.

"You don't like it?" Jimmy questioned innocently.

"No, it's not that. I just…I shouldn't drink."


	32. Chapter 32

Their dinner was tantalizingly delicious. The steak was so tender Reese could cut it with her fork. She savored each bite, trying hard not to openly "Mmm" before taking another. They had chocolate covered strawberries for dessert; her teasingly feeding him one from across the table while playing footsies underneath. They were like two starry-eyed teenagers. Jimmy buzzed from the champagne, Reese buzzing as well but for a very different reason. After dinner, they retrieved their belongings and Jimmy held the door for her on the way out.

"Aye' kid! Don't be a stranger- ya hear?" Babette called after them and Jimmy responded with boyish grin as he tipped his hat at her.

The moon was out and the sky was glowing with stars. They ambled along, canoodling; their packages for Tommy spilling out of their arms, and made their way along one of the ocean piers. Reaching the end, Reese put her bags down and found herself drawn to the railing overlooking the water. She looked up at the sky, then over at Jimmy putting her small hand in his.

"I had a great time today," she smiled.

"Me too," he said, positioning himself next to her and leaning forward on one of the bars.

Reese took a deep breath. "Jimmy," she started slowly, "I know what Celeste meant. I…I know what I'm missing."

"Yeah? What's that," he asked tenderly looking down at her.

"Jimmy, I'm-"

"-Ah!" he cried out in pain suddenly, gripping the railing to hold himself up.

"What the-" Reese grabbed the back of his jacket, unsure of what just happened.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

Jimmy mumbled something incoherent-the wind knocked out of him- but Reese knew the voice as well. She turned to see that they were surrounded by a group of thugs- her old friend from Joe's standing front and center.

"First the parade then Babette's. You disappoint me, Doll. Whatcha doin' with this clown?" Mickey sneered as two of his underlings gripped a wounded Jimmy, while another two tore Reese away from him.

Some of the men held two-by-fours, some wrenches and crowbars and it occurred to her that he must have been struck with one of them from behind. She watched in horror as they held Jimmy back by his elbows, he was fighting hard but largely outnumbered.

"The boots," Mickey barked. "Check the boots and under his jacket."

One of his henchmen tried to pull the knife out of his shoe, but not before Jimmy successfully kicked him in the face.

"I've had just about enough of you," Mickey continued. "Let 'em have it boys."

With that the men took turns pummeling him, Reese screaming for help until one of them covered her mouth with his hand. She bit his finger so he let go and slapped her hard across the face. She stumbled backwards a few steps, one hand protectively crossed over her abdomen, the other rubbing her cheek.

"Leave her alone!" Jimmy shouted as one of the thugs landed a solid right hook.

"Jimmy!" she cried, her arm outstretched reaching towards him. She tried to go to him, but Mickey grabbed her by her other elbow. "Let me go," she jerked and pulled as hard as she could.

"Okay, Doll," Mickey giggled, "you asked for it." And, with that, he released her just as her momentum was poised in the opposite direction.

"No," she whimpered as she fell forward, her hands out in front of her. "My baby, my baby…" Reese sobbed, clutching her stomach as she lay on the hard wood.

Jimmy looked helplessly over at her, his left eye badly cut, a crimson tide pouring down his face. "Your baby?"

"Our baby," she said softly, managing to sit up. "This isn't how I wanted to tell you…"

"Aww, how ro-_man-_tic," Mickey cackled. "Now hand over your rings, Sugar Mama."

Reese obeyed, sliding off her diamond and wedding band and tossing them at him.

"That's enough Mickey."

Those three words sufficiently stopped the attackers in their tracks, and Reese couldn't help but notice that Mickey himself had turned a bit peaked. She looked up to see who she needed to thank, and was surprised to see the man from the restaurant strolling towards them.

"This wasn't sanctioned," he lectured.

"I, uh…I didn't think you'd mind," Mickey shrugged casually. "Considering everything, ya know?"

Nucky looked at Mickey sternly, snatching the rings out of his hand. He then gave Jimmy a look of disgust and shook his head condescendingly. "Don't get any ideas, I was only concerned about her," he hissed before turning to Reese. "Miss, I believe these are yours," he started, handing the jewelry back to her. "Are you alright?"

Reese looked down at the monstrous diamond in her palm, and closed her fingers around it in a fist. She looked up at Nucky, then over to Jimmy, who was on all fours a few feet away choking up blood and struggling to catch his breath.

"No, these don't belong to me anymore," she said resolutely as she slowly stood. She whipped her arm back and hurled the rings over the railing and into the sea. They landed with a plop and quickly sank out of view but Reese didn't take the time to notice. Finally making her way to Jimmy, she knelt down in the pool of blood around him, reaching his battered body just as he was losing consciousness.

"Whew!" Mickey whistled to no one in particular, gazing up at the sky with his hands in his pockets. "Wouldja look at that? A shootin' star."


	33. Chapter 33

Reese and Jimmy were both examined at St. Theresa's Hospital. Thankfully, his injuries looked more severe than they actually were-his face and trunk covered with deep purple bruises and minor cuts. He sustained some cracked ribs and concussion in addition to his eye which only required a few stitches. The doctors performed a blood test and, although it was very early on, confirmed Reese's pregnancy.

Jimmy wasn't able to do much of anything let alone drive and she felt too shaken to trust herself behind the wheel, so Richard was called to pick them up. She threw her arms around him, almost toppling him over when he rushed into the waiting area.

"Ya should see…the other fella," Jimmy mumbled deliriously to his friend as Richard put him in the back seat. Reese climbed in next to him, and he leaned his aching head against her chest. "A baby, huh?" he murmured in a brief moment of cognition.

"Sshh," she whispered, petting him.

They soon reached the house and Richard helped Jimmy up the stairs, Reese ascending first to open the door. After he was all tucked in, she turned to Richard to thank him.

"I can. Stay up with him," he offered, seeing her tired eyes.

"That's alright," she replied, not wanting to leave his side for even an instant.

"The couch then." Richard said and Reese smiled appreciatively.

She got him some bedding from the hall closet, before returning to tend to Jimmy. He needed to be woken up every hour and, although she was physically exhausted, Reese's adrenalin was running on all cylinders so she wouldn't be sleeping much that night anyway.

On the one hand, she was overjoyed- her dream coming true- something that was once so far out of reach now miraculously happening. She'd considered a surrogate or adoption as alternatives, but wanted to wait for the divorce to be finalized before exploring such options; adjusting to life on her own before taking on the responsibility of caring for another. But now, she sighed blissfully, she wasn't alone anymore and she looked longingly over at Jimmy. Their chance encounter- which really wasn't by chance after all- had truly changed her life in ways she never thought possible. But the moon would be full that night and she couldn't help but fear what that might mean for them.

The following morning she made sure Jimmy was well fed; spoon feeding him soft porridge with a touch of cinnamon and sugar. The insides of his mouth were cut and he had a hard time chewing so she handed him some milk to wash it down. When he didn't finish it all, she raised her eyebrow.

"You're gonna be such a good mom," his lower lip swollen as he tried to smile at her.

"Why's that?" she played along.

"You've mastered that look already."

Reese smirked and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You're really happy about it?" she asked shyly.

Jimmy took her hand and squeezed it. "I've always wanted more children. I wasn't there when Tommy was a baby and I've always regretted that. I'm gonna be here for you…Reese, I promise. For you _and_ the baby."

She leaned over and kissed the top of his head. She took the glass from him and he grimaced.

"What is it?" she asked.

"So…dizzy…" he managed, suddenly winded and seeing two of her.

"You poor thing," she said soothingly. "I think that's to be expected though. At least for a few days, Dr. Mason said. Why don't you take a little rest?"

"Okay…"

He closed his eyes and buried himself in the pillow while she rubbed his sore temples. After Jimmy dozed off she tip-toed to the living room, where Richard was reading the newspaper.

"Would you mind if I went out for a little while?" she asked him. "I hate to leave him but there's something I need to attend to."

"No, of course. Not."

"Thank you," she replied, trying to force a grateful smile. "He's running a slight fever, but nothing out of the ordinary. I promise I won't be long."

She hoped, she _prayed_ it was a promise she would be able to keep.

* * *

Reese wondered if she'd ever get used to driving without power steering. The wheel itself was much larger and situated in a different position. Still, she putted along into town, turning right onto Metropolitan. She even managed to park straight and smiled to herself as she ascended the ramp up to the Boardwalk.

Madame Celeste was with another customer when Reese got to the Palmist, but the medium saw her through the window and nodded for her to come in.

"I'm sorry," the psychic said, hastily collecting her tarot cards. "The spirits are not agreeable today. You come back tomorrow? Yes?"

The other woman looked at her indignantly, turned her nose up, and stormed out. Reese waited until she was out of view before sitting down.

Now, Madame Celeste had a true gift for communicating with the other side, but it didn't take a psychic to see the dark circles under Reese's eyes and pale complexion and know that she'd been up all night. The medium clasped her hands.

"He is strong. He will be fine," she assured her.

But Reese only drew a large breath in response. Her lip quivering, she tried her hardest not to break down.

"I know, child," Celeste continued gently, "it's hard to see someone that you care about in pain. And you do care, don't you?"

"I love him so…" Reese nodded, tears streaming down her face at the thought of leaving Jimmy. She couldn't go home now, couldn't bear never seeing him again let alone raising their child without him. It was too much.

"Congratulations," the psychic smiled widely.

"Thank you," Reese sniffled. "I'm still not sure how…I mean I _know, _of course_,_ I just…can't believe it. It doesn't seem real. The doctors said…" she trailed off.

"What did I tell you when you first came in?"

Reese furrowed her brow and shook her head. Too much had happened for her to recall the specifics.

"I said, 'the key to your future lies in the past,'" the medium answered for her. And Celeste went on to explain that while the damage to Reese's cervix occurred in 2012, this was 1922- ninety years _before_ her accident thus rendering her reproductive organs back to their originally healthy state. Then she drew a rolled up piece of paper from one of her sleeves and handed it to Reese.

The younger woman held it up and unrolled it to find that it was a diploma from the University of Southern California. It had her maiden name on it and indicated that she'd completed her juris doctorate in 1916. Confused, she searched Celeste for answers.

"You don't have to decide anything right now, child. But she thought it might come in handy in case you'd like to work."

Reese closed her eyes and let the relief wash over her. Angela had really thought of everything and Reese wondered what she had done to deserve such a friend.

"And Charlotte?" Reese asked, lowering her gaze.

"She is where she was meant to be."

_Just like I'm where I was meant to be. _

"Exactly," the psychic nodded.

Reese stood, re-rolling the law degree and putting it in the inner pocket of her coat. "Thanks for all of your help, Celeste."

"Do you want to know the gender?" Celeste smiled.

Tempting as it was, Reese decided that it would be better if she came back with Jimmy at a later time so they could find out together.

The other woman waved in acknowledgement as Reese stepped back onto the Boardwalk.


	34. Chapter 34

It took Jimmy about a week to get back on his feet again, Reese doting on him while he convalesced. She proved to be the best medicine of all, her warm hands caressing him, her gentle touch easing away every ache and pain.

So much had happened in the last month that he still had to pinch himself from time to time as a reminder that it was all real. Reese was the first person he'd ever completely let his guard down with and that was a good feeling. A feeling he could get used to; a feeling that he never wanted to end. With her, the house had become a home again.

It was strange to him, but it was almost as if Angela were gone. He'd always think of her fondly. A part of him would even still love her. But he got the feeling that she was finally at peace and his heart was light for the first time in years.

As for Tommy, Jimmy didn't want the child see him until his face had healed so he told the boy that he'd come down with a bad cold and didn't want him to catch it. Still, he called his son every day, telling his nightly bedtime stories over the phone. He couldn't wait to tell him that he was going to be a big brother, but he wanted to do that in person with Reese. Thankfully he wouldn't have to wait much longer as the physician was scheduled to come later that morning.

While his ribs would take a while longer to heal completely, the gash next to his eye had closed nicely. Jimmy sat on the edge of the bed as Dr. Mason took out his stitches. He flinched with the each painful tug, gritting his teeth until it was over.

"Does it hurt?" Reese asked quietly, her lips pressed in an anxious pout. His skin was still pink and sensitive, so she applied a dab of ointment.

"Nah," he fibbed.

He stood up and began buttoning his shirt. Reese approached with his tie, looping it over his head. She pulled him close and planted a kiss on his billowy soft lips.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," she said.

"I should be the one takin' care of you," he grinned and grazed his hand over her stomach. He thought about the night that they met, how she was just as lost as he was. How they'd found each other. How it was almost as if she were hand-picked, just for him. He leaned down and forward, brushing her hair back, "Marry me…" he whispered in her ear.

She blushed and looked up at him, her eyes dewy. "Because of the baby?" she questioned meekly, she couldn't help herself.

"No," he assured her, taking her hands and squeezing them. "Because I love you. Reese, I love you, and I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." Jimmy paused nervously, "I know a lot's happened…I understand if you want some time to think about it but-"

"-Yes!"

"Yes?"

"Yes," she squealed again, throwing her arms around his neck and Jimmy thought his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. He kissed her long and hard, never so thankful to be able to use his mouth again.

"I'm gonna pick up Tommy after lunch. I think it's time to bring him home."

"He'll be so excited," she gushed.

"Yeah, I miss him," he sighed. "I'm gonna do better with our baby. I'm gonna be here…I'm gonna be a good dad."

"Oh, Jimmy…" Reese smiled warmly, "You already _are_ a good dad."

* * *

Jimmy was on his way to the mansion. He'd driven the route so many times he could nearly do it in his sleep, which was a good thing because he was so contented he was almost in a daze. Reese stayed behind at the beach house preparing Tommy's room.

He pulled up at the house and bounded up the stairs, eagerly anticipating the sound of the child's voice when he opened the door. But the house was quiet and remarkably cold.

"Tommy!" he called but there was no response.

"He's not here, darling," Gillian said, approaching him from the darkened hall that led from the foyer to the great room. "After you called, I asked Richard to take him up to the soda shop for a malt."

"Why wouldja do that, Ma? I haven't seen him in days."

"It's been _ages_ since we've been alone together. Surely you can't fault me for wanting to spend a little time with my own son?"

She smiled demurely and Jimmy could finally see her clearly. Her hair was undone and she wore a long, sheer black nightgown; her nipples hard from the chill in the air and he quickly looked away. She stopped a few feet away from him, her right arm down and hugging her curves, a cigarette in her left which she drew to her red lips and took a quick puff.

"Why's it so cold in here?"

"It's December, dear."

"Here," he gruffed, taking off his jacket and throwing it at her. Jimmy gave her a dirty look. "Cover yourself up already."

"I think a lot can be said about _body heat_," she purred, letting his overcoat drop to the floor and releasing an exasperated sigh. "I've missed you, baby. I've missed our little talks." Gillian inched closer and traced the new skin next to his left eye. "Little tramp," she sneered, "getting you into trouble."

"That's not what happened, Ma," he said, lurching away from her.

"Well, at least she's gone now," Gillian said hopefully. "And we can finally go back to normal."

"When was it ever normal?" he countered. "And she's not gone- she's stayin'. I love her, Ma."

"No," she mouthed the word silently, her eyes wide.

"I do," Jimmy continued adamantly. "We're gonna be married."

"Jimmy, be reasonable."

"You're wrong, Ma. You're so wrong," he shook his head. "Look, I know ya didn't like Angela- you made that very clear. But it's different with Reese. She understands me, accepts me for who I am." He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "I…I told her about us."

"You told her _what_ about us?"

Jimmy cocked his head and swallowed hard. _Don't make me say it_.

"Well James?" she pressed him, her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowing.

But Jimmy didn't respond. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction or the control she desperately wanted. He'd done that for too long and it almost killed him.

"Ma," he said earnestly, "I'm doin' this with or without your blessing. But I'd sure like ya to be there."

She seemed to soften a little and clasped his hands in hers which were surprisingly warm.

"Baby you're freezing," she murmured rubbing his palms. "Let me make you some tea, and then we'll talk about this some more?"

"Where's Langston?"

"I gave him the day off," she chirped.

Jimmy eyed her cautiously, untrusting of her drastic mood swings. At the same time, the thought of her leaving the room for the kitchen- even if just for a few minutes- was appealing.

"Tea would good," he said as he pulled his hands away. "With a little bourbon."

"I know how you like it, dear," she winked coyly over her shoulder as she walked away.

Gillian strutted into the kitchen. She turned the knobs on all four burners of the stove, but didn't light the pilot on any of them letting the gas escape into the air. If she couldn't have him, no one could. It was always the two of them against the world and soon they would be leaving this world together.

Jimmy was bit surprised when she returned to the foyer so soon.

"The water should be hot in just a few minutes," she offered, passing him an amber glass of hooch laced with enough bleach to bring him to his knees. "This should take the edge off in the meantime."

Jimmy took the drink from her, but didn't bring it to his lips. Something about her was off. Her eyes were twinkling, her smile ridiculously wide. He eyed her suspiciously as she leaned against the back of a chair, her head tilted ever so slightly to the side. She drew her thumb up to her mouth and vulnerably bit her fingernail, batting her lashes.

"There's only you and me," she sighed thoughtfully while Jimmy cringed remembering the last time she'd said that. "The way it's always been. We grew up together, didn't we? And this…" she continued waving her arm around to indicate their surroundings. "This is where it all began. That's what makes it so fitting…"

By now Jimmy just wanted to get the hell out of there. He could usually tell when she was drunk and, although it was possible she'd been hitting the bottle before he arrived, he didn't think she was. He put his drink on the foyer table and bent down to retrieve his coat.

"What time did Richard leave for the Boardwalk?" he asked nonchalantly as he put his hat back on.

"You're not leaving, are you?" she practically begged, dodging his question.

"Yeah, I'm gonna try to surprise Tommy. Hopefully they'll still be up there."

"But your drink?" Gillian pouted, "The tea's not even done yet."

"I'll be back later, Ma."

He had his back to her and put his hand on the doorknob.

"Jimmy?" she asked sanguinely.

He turned and looked back at her over his shoulder, the brim of his hat turned down and she could only see one of his crystal blue eyes.

"You know how much I love you, right?"

"Yeah, Ma," he nodded.

"Okay then."

The door closed behind him and he didn't see the single tear drop that fell from her eye. She retrieved her cigarette case from the great room, walking slowly down the hall towards the kitchen as she put one in her mouth. Gillian stopped just short of the stove and struck a match. Jimmy was almost at the gate at the end of the driveway when he heard the explosion. The gas leak wasn't enough to bring down the house, but his mother would never hurt him again.

Gillian was buried on a rainy Tuesday morning. Reese was beside herself over the tragic turn of events and wanted to be by Jimmy's side the morning of the funeral but he respectfully declined. Given her delicate condition he didn't want her out in the harsh weather so she stayed behind with Tommy. Richard and Leander were present, as well as a few of the girls that she used to work with, but it was otherwise a small service.

Jimmy stood under a large black golf umbrella and watched as they slowly lowered her coffin into the ground. Of course he would miss her. Despite everything she was still his mother. But, unlike Angela's funeral, he was calm; surrounded by an all encompassing peace. For as much as she'd damaged him, she'd lived most of her life as a tortured soul herself and her suffering finally over.

He fished around his pocket for his cigarettes, Richard holding the umbrella temporarily for him as he lit one; Jimmy needing both hands to shield the match from the merciless winter wind. He looked down and when he looked back up again he could see the robin's egg blue outline of Nucky's car parked on the street next to the cemetery, his old friend seated in the back. Jimmy met the other man's eye and received a solid nod in response before Eddie pulled the car away.

When it was over, Jimmy limped back to his own car with Richard. He was going home to his family. He'd gotten a much needed second chance and he couldn't wait to see them. He couldn't undo the past but the future…well, this was the first time in his life Jimmy felt that he _had_ a future since that fateful night his freshman year. And Reese…she was _from_ the future so he figured it was already going to be great.

They climbed in the car, a few drops of rain sneaking in before they could slam the doors closed.

"You. Alright?" Richard asked.

"Yeah," Jimmy said with newfound confidence. "Let's go home."


	35. Epilogue

Jimmy and Reese were married shortly after the New Year. Richard moved in with the Darmody's as well, the house having ample space plus he was practically family anyway.

Rather than having the damage to the mansion repaired, Jimmy ultimately decided to have it demolished. Still, the property itself was vast so, at Reese's suggestion, he donated it back to the city which Mayor Bader graciously accepted later naming it 'Bader Field' after himself. Jimmy's only request (again- Reese's idea but he loved it) was that the park contain a play area for children in Angela's memory.

Later that winter, the newspaper reported that a new American Legion club was opening up and the men went down to see what all the fuss was about. They both became members and enjoyed the camaraderie of socializing with other veterans. Jimmy had a soft spot for one of the older fellas in particular. Bitter, belligerent, and frequently picking fights when he'd had too much to drink, he saw in Paul Sagorsky what could have easily been himself in twenty years had Reese not come along when she did. Richard became smitten with the man's daughter, often called to take him home after a rough night, and she returned his affections. By spring, Jimmy and a very pregnant Reese stood happily on the sidelines cheering as Richard spun his sweetheart around on the dance floor at one of the club's parties.

Still, there were times over dinner that Jimmy and Richard would discuss some of the topics raised at the club's monthly meetings: the lack of jobs, the poor healthcare, the overall mistreatment and misunderstanding of the Lost Generation as they'd come to be known. Reese also noted as she read the papers that there was corruption within the Harding administration with rumors swirling that it went as high up as the Attorney General; the politicians lining their own pockets while plundering the funds allocated to the Veteran's Administration. It made her very angry, and also reminded her of why she originally wanted to study law in the first place- to advocate for the rights of others. She discussed her feelings with Jimmy (they talked openly about everything) and expressed an interest in practicing again after the baby was born and old enough to be weaned from nursing. Her intelligence and compassion were some of things he admired most about her so, in addition to preparing one of the spare rooms for the baby's nursery, Jimmy also converted Angela's old portrait studio into a home office for her.

The baby was due in August and she spent the remainder of her pregnancy reading up on the statutes of the day. Leander was most helpful, giving her access to the volumes in his personal library as well as recommending others from the County library that might suit her interests.

On a rainy summer night, after almost 26 hours of labor, Reese and Jimmy welcomed their child into the world. Dr. Mason met Jimmy in the living room- where he'd been pacing so frantically that Richard thought he'd put a hole in the floor- to advise him that he had another son. He rushed with joy back to the bedroom. His wife was covered in sweat as well as a little blood, but he'd never seen a sight so beautiful before in his life. She was cradling the babe, already cooing a soft lullaby, and she stared up at him with eyes full of love. Jimmy didn't want a junior, so they decided to name the child after his godfather- Richard.

Reese began taking on clients on a pro bono basis when Richard was a toddler. Her family would always come first- she made sure that the customers knew that upfront- but working from home gave her the freedom of pursuing her passion while staying close to the children; Jimmy or Richard always available to watch the boys if she were in a meeting or on a telephone call.

The years passed and the family thrived. Given Reese's knowledge of the pending financial doom, Jimmy slowly started moving his funds out of the markets towards the latter part of the decade. They weathered the Depression with little hardship, but always tried to help others who may have been less fortunate.

Tommy grew up to follow in his father and uncle's footsteps, joining the Army after Pearl Harbor. While he'd seen their visible battle scars, neither Jimmy nor Richard openly spoke about their experiences Over There in front of the children. However, given his enlistment, both men thought it prudent to have a heart-to-heart with him to at least try to prepare him for some of the sights he might see (although a person is never really prepared for such things). He was assigned to Easy Company and parachuted into France on D-Day, later earning a Silver Star for his valor during the Battle of the Bulge.

When the War ended, Tommy returned home to marry his high school sweetheart, Emily Rohan. True the girl had grown up a "Thompson", but she hated her step father for the way he treated her late mother…always back and forth with those two while he openly saw other women on the side. Nucky tried to buy her affections, as well as her brother's. He may have succeeded with Teddy, but she was not for sale opting to legally change her name when he was sentenced to prison for tax evasion in 1941. Jimmy thought it ironic, his son and Nucky's daughter, but the girl had a fiery spirit about her that reminded him of Reese and he welcomed her into the family with open arms.

As for young Richard, he took after his mother grew up to be an attorney himself. After a successful stent as Atlantic County Prosecutor, he was asked to take on a teaching role at the University of Pennsylvania, leaving the shore for the Main Line where he eventually raised his own family.

**AUTUMN, 2004**

Bryce Forrester strode confidently across the campus at Villanova on his way to the law library. While his parents had prompted, Bryce had done his own leg work and checked her MySpace page as well as her student profile and was anxious to make Reese Darmody's acquaintance. Her family was Old Money too- dating back to the Gilded Age- which was tempting enough but she was also beautiful; long ginger colored hair and indescribably blue eyes (a family trait). He opened the door, took a deep breath, and began to look for her.

Reese was seated alone at a table a few feet in front of him, her nose in a book and a pencil in her right hand which she subconsciously tapped in the air between her middle and index fingers. She bit her lower lip in deep concentration and didn't hear him approach.

"Reese Darmody?" he smiled enthusiastically.

"Yes," she replied, not looking up.

"Bryce Forrester."

More smiles this time and an eager hand extended to shake hers.

"Hello," she said, finally regarding him. She thought she recognized him from one of her classes, but didn't recall. Named after her great-grandmother, Reese came from a long line of successful attorneys and was more focused on her studies at the moment than conversation.

"We're in Dr. Siegel's Criminal Law class together," he offered.

"Right…" she smiled politely.

"Listen, Reese, I heard you were putting a study group together to do the outlines. Any openings left?"

"Sorry Bryce," Reese shrugged innocently, "I assigned the last outline this morning. But, you know what, I think my friend Sara has some spots open in her group. Let me get you her number."


End file.
